


Power and Prestige

by Faestae



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Chapter Fic, Death, Enemies to enemies who fuck, F/M, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Manipulation, Power Struggle, Princess reader, Royalty, Torture, Violence, aggressive sex, asshole kylo ren, strong female character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 16:52:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 36,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8675230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faestae/pseuds/Faestae
Summary: Taking place before the events of Star Wars: The Force Awakens, you are Vatari Kellarov, the princess of a Militant Regime in service to the First Order and to Commander Kylo Ren. Your family, having served him since his uprising, came to know him well. You knew he was adept in the ways of the Dark Side of the Force and that he was a force to be reckoned with both on and off the battlefield. He was ruthless and cruel–but so were you.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY SO...
> 
> If you're thinking you've seen this before, you definitely have. It's been up on Ao3 before, but some really weird crazy things happened and out of shame, I took it down. But now that its passed, I think it belongs back up here. I'll be editing each chapter as it goes back up, so hopefully it will be even better than it was in its previous iteration ^^;; anyway, I hope you enjoy!

You’ve been dark for as long as you could remember.

Hatred and oppression raised you from a child into a pillar of malice, long and lean like the shadow you cast on the wall. From birth, there was a malicious stirring in you, that your mother and your father, as royal as they were knew, to be a sign of terror.

The Dark Side was awake inside of you and it whirled like a wild solar storm.

The Jedi Order was long dead, years since the massacre left all but two alive. One Master, one padawan. To be there, to have seen the terror with your own eyes, surely you would have perished by his hand. But you were forbidden. Forbidden to leave the walls of your father’s palace, forbidden to learn the ways of the Force; especially the dark side. The news of your new found sensitivity was kept under wraps, lest you were discovered by the New Republic.

Following the collapse of the Galactic Empire, the institution of the New Republic held your family captive; birds in a gilded cage. Having served the Empire, your kingdom once flourished under the rule of Emperor Palpatine and his apprentice Darth Vader. Providing soldiers, rations, and financial support, your family rode the rising tide of the Empire, gaining power by the tenfold, and return, unleashing it in the form of conquest on the galaxy.

It did not last. With the destruction of the second Death Star, the fortune of your family diminished, leaving the Kellarov Dynasty, the seat of your father, in ruin.

But there was still hope. The whispering in your ear spoke of a great liberation since you were young. Freedom from the chains of the New Republic; a monster in a mask to shake the foundation of the world you knew.

“Visitors, your majesty,” your adviser curtsied as you walked by, falling into step with you. “Shall I prepare them an audience?”

You didn’t speak, simply waved your hand, and your adviser nodded in reply.

“Right away, my lady,” she hurried off down the glistening hall, heels echoing in the silence.

He had come just as the prophecy stated. In the bang of the Great Hall doors, and a flurry of well aimed blaster shots, you family was free, ready to serve an alliance with a new power; a new order. You were young then, but old enough to recognize their power.

You threw the doors open yourself, with a flick of your wrist and the will of the Force. Your draping sleeves settled back as your hand came down, the guards saluting you as you entered. They knew better than to be out of line. They knew they would pay with their lives; you only had to make an example once.

Slamming the door behind you, you strode tall and proud to the throne; your birthright. Crystals of black glass in the chandelier lining the hall glistened with the light of the red sun of Kellarov Prime. As you passed, the shoulders of the guards snapped into place with a click of their heels.

When you reached the end of the hall, you climbed the stairs to your father’s throne. One step at a time, you rose to the great height of the throne, properly adjusted to accommodate one seat; yours and yours alone. Your parents were never around anyway. Turning around, you smoothed your velvet robes, and when you took your seat, you felt the relief rise from the guards.

You were the princess: Only daughter of Queen Sera and King Tiberius Kellarov, commander of the Dark Royal Army, a summer blossom tainted by darkness of the new order. As beautiful as you were terrible, this new chaos gave rise to your new identity, an identity that was one with the Dark Side of the Force and all of its monstrous parts.

The door opened again and your adviser let it shut behind her. She cleared her throat, clutching her data pad to her chest,“Commander Kylo Ren and General Hux of the First Order.”

Your mother was right. Having opened galactic airspace to one 'Finalizer' that morning meant that you would come face to face with him soon. Gripping the arms of your throne, you raised your head, letting your own majesty empower your words:

“Bring them in.”


	2. Chapter 2

The doors swung open and in they came, boots clicking against the mirrored floor as they approached. All at once, the royal guard snapped to attention, an eerie silence vibrating through the throne room. Leading the way was General Hux, that viper of a man, looking as sharp as you last remembered him. His orange hair was slicked down to one side, not a single lock out of place; his cap clenched in the fist behind his back. He was followed by the commander, his less than elegant counter part.

Dressed all in black, like the day you met him was Commander Kylo Ren. He was much taller than you remembered--the weight of his swagger disturbed the Force like an alien crocodile stomping through the shallows of a lake as black as night. What used to be his cape was nothing more than a tattered cowl that collected around his neck. And his mask, once shining and new was now dull, scratched and dented. He didn't bother looking at anything else in the room but you as he walked, downing the sight of you like a dose of bitter medicine. You could feel the way you burned down his throat in the way his breathing pattern changed.

My, it had been a long time.

“General Hux. Commander Ren,” you said formally, letting your voice carry down into their ears; Ren twitched. “Welcome to Kellarov Prime,”

Ren was the first to speak, his voice rumbling low, echoing through the open hall. “Does your father know you’re pretending to be in charge?” He remained still, one step behind his loyal general when he challenged you.

You released your iron grip on the throne's arm, resting your fingers on the red kyber crystal that accented your seat. It pulsed under the influence of the Force, throbbing anxiously, but you calmed it, resting your fingertips on it, “A simple ‘hello, beautiful’ would have been just fine, commander,” you said calmly “I see ten years apart had no influence on your lack of proper manners. Especially in the presence of royalty.”

Hux exhaled through his nose, casting the commander a glare that was telling of a previous conversation they've had about this. “The King and Queen are attending business in the Rondur system,” he said through his teeth, “The princess will be seeing to our meeting this morning.”

Ren hadn’t stopped glaring at you from behind his faceless mask, still speaking to Hux. “Then why doesn’t she stand up and act like it?” He let his voice echo before he continued, speaking directly to you now, “That is what you were trained for...was it not?”

You rose to your feet, your black slits of a skirt falling to the floor around your ankles. The Royal Guard tensed up again, their armor clinking anxiously together “Is that your way of telling me to come closer, Ren?” Slivers of your legs shone against the dark fabric of your royal garment as you made your way down the grand staircase. “Because you know I will always indulge you,”

You moved slowly, the guard all around the room lowering their heads in respect. Ren however remained stiff and with every step closer to him, his defiance swelled against you. You reveled in it.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, you approached both Ren and Hux, swaying your shoulders and letting the array of black straps that held yourself decent stretch and pull across your flesh. Sleeves were against your code–anything to hinder you leaping into action never even touched your body. You arms were bare, only black fabric was wound around your forearms—to brace for combat of course. Excess luxury did not exist on you, as your training forbid it–the only precious gem you owned was a kyber crystal, embedded in a choker of silver that circled your neck. Your light saber clicked against your belt.

General Hux offered his hand and without taking your eyes off of Ren, you slipped your hand into his. With a bow, the general placed his lips against your bare hand, holding you there for a second before releasing. You wondered aimlessly what Ren’s mask would feel like, pressed against your flesh; cold as ice. “Princess,” Hux released your hand, shooting a glare at Ren, who still hadn’t moved to pay his respects, “Your regency has contributed to more growth in the Kellarov System and in the First Order's occupation of affected star systems than ever before. Truly you are capable as you are lovely,”

You smirked, cupping the general's strong chin in your hand. You lifted his head up, admiring his cheekbones as you tilted his head left, then right, “General,” you said lovingly, “Truly the First Order has never seen a such a strong and admirable leader.” Still staring at Ren, you let your finger trail off the end of Hux’s chin, “Handsome to boot,”

Hux flushed a muted pink, stretching his neck to one side as he collected himself, “I won’t ask you to excuse the commander,” he muttered, “His judgment has been all but clear since we landed,”

“Rarely do I expect common courtesy from Kylo Ren,” mockery entertained itself on your tongue, “Not even on holidays,”

The commander's knuckles cracked in his clenched fist.

“He’ll come to enjoy kissing my hand–maybe couple it with some respect,” You finally took your eyes off of him, blessing Hux with your attention, “But you were always my favorite, general.”

Ren spoke shortly, clearly not amused by your games “We did not come to amuse your insatiable need to rank what few people you interact with into a list,”

Satisfied with the pressure he exerted, a grin spread across your face, “I like my list,” you whispered giving him the once over. He returned your gaze–faceless and cold.

Hux paused before speaking, unable to see the reaches of the Force that you commanded to caress the edges of his cowl onto the hard steel of his mask.

“So,” you directed your attention back to the General, “what brings the terrible First Order to my star system?”

“A threat, I am afraid,” Hux said quietly, but with confidence.

You looked back to Ren, but he stayed silent, keeping his mask on Hux Tightening your lip, you followed his gaze, back to the trembling form of the General, who only seemed slightly unnerved to be the one delivering this news, “So? Out with it,” you snapped, “Time is of the essence,”

“There’s a rumor,” Hux began slowly, “of a resistance outpost in the Kellarov system. Our spies have concluded this is some sort of reconnaissance for Starkiller Base.”

“Where,”

“Etisin II,” replied Hux. Laying his data pad flat on his hand, he summoned a projection of the third planet in the Kellarov system. Known for its lush jungles and bountiful resources, it was the perfect place to hide Resistance scum.

You watched the rotation of the hologram, anger bubbling low in your chest. Ren removed his eyes from the floor, focusing on you now. For a moment, you felt his presence on the inside of your forehead, but you snapped your head to face him, promptly swatting it away.

“We organize an airstrike,” you said finally, “Smoke them out into the Royal Dark Army’s barricade, then destroy any ship to leave the planet.”

Ren turned his mask to you. “Kellarov--”

“--honorifics never did suit you, did it, commander,” you snarled, the intensity of your gaze being reflected in the chrome grates where you assumed his eyes would be, “Despite how particular you are about your own,”

“You plan to lay siege to your own system’s planet, then.” Ren muttered.

“Etisin II has no traffic but First Order supply ships,” you replied through your teeth, “My pilots are not idiots, Ren, they will not eliminate their allies.” he had no quip, so you straightened your back.

“Recklessness does you no service.” Ren replied, “Not when there are opportunities to gather information in regards to the Resistance.”

“How unlike you, commander,” you sneered “to offer a solution that doesn’t involve slaughter.” You swept your arm back, gesturing to the magnificence that was your throne room, “You seem to forget how well off this star system is under my control. It would be wise to follow my orders, that is--” you lower your voice, “--if you wish to take advantage of my family’s continued support of your conquest.”

Hux stepped in between you two, but before he could speak, the door flew open.

Before he could be summoned, General Hendrick Locke entered, breathing heavily. Locke had served your family for years; he was the commanding officer of the Royal Dark Army when your mother retired until it was ready for you. A man of war, he taught you everything you knew about commanding a fleet, he raised you. Locke stopped, the heavy black cloak settling at his boots. His jaw, covered in thick dark bristles, peppered with grey tightened when he caught a glimpse of Hux and Ren, “Commander Kellarov,” he said bowing his head in your direction.

You addressed him with a deep breath, rolling your shoulders back as you recovered from , “General,” you said as sweetly as your rage would allow.

“Command has received a disrupted transmission from Etisin II,” Locke stated, pausing to breathe, “It’s the Resistance and they’re moving fast,”

“Alert the fleet.” You demanded, “and prepare my star fighter. I will see to it myself that transport is destroyed.”

Locke saluted, his heavy boots thudding together. “Yes, commander,” he turned on his heel and moved to exit the grand hall, you following

“Send our troops instead,” Ren said suddenly, forcing Locke to halt and listen to the unwarranted suggestion of the commander.

Scowling, you took a breath to retort, but he interrupted you promptly.

“For someone who takes pleasure in criticizing recklessness, you do tend to gravitate towards it yourself,” Ren grunted in your direction. Defensively, you straightened your shoulders.

Ren turned away from you, facing both Hux and Locke, “Intercept the transporter,” he ordered “Take hostage anyone you find on board for interrogation. Bring them to the Finalizer.”

All eyes were on you except Ren’s. He was staring intently at Locke, waiting for someone to say something. You were glaring hard at the commander, silently demanding authorization for his intrusive order, but it never came. Ten years, and he still found ground to defy you in your own planet. Something told you this was going to be no easy task—not with him.

“Commander Kellarov,” Locke said slowly, hesitating to say one thing or another, sensing your distress “Your order.”

You snapped back into the moment, resigning—this battle with Ren was not something you wanted to fight yet...“Intercept the transporter,” you said quietly turning your gaze to the floor. “Take anyone alive to the Finalizer for interrogation.”

No one moved.

“Now!” you shouted.

General Hux was the first to hurry out of the massive double doors, followed by Locke as they pinged their orders to the awaiting armies, the Royal Guard filing out immediately after. After a short while, the throne room was empty—all except for you and Commander Kylo Ren.

You glared hard at him as he turned to face you without saying a word. The mask that haunted you for ten years burned its image into your head as you stared at each other for a long time.

“A pleasure, as always,” he muttered, “...princess,”

He left in a whirlwind of black cloak.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story so far... General Hux has informed you of a Resistance reconnaissance outpost on Etisin II, a planet within the Kellarov System. Furious, you issue a brash order to destroy any ship leaving the planet's airspace, but Kylo Ren has interfered with your authority..again. Forced to obey due to a conflict of interest, you plan to intercept a Resistance transporter that has been spotted over the neighboring planet Narinu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three! (The editing process is going a lot faster than anticipated) Enjoy!

_“Again.”_

_Blood from your lip fell onto the mat and you brought your trembling wrist up to wipe it away. From across the training room floor, the one way mirror to the observation room reflected your disheveled body crumpled and bested, struggling to stand again. Each breath you took made the burning in your arms and thighs more bearable, but the words from your master pulled you far from comfort_

_“I said 'again'.”_

_You lifted your head, pressure against your forehead paining you beyond words. One arm at a time, you propped yourself up, reaching for your training staff. From its place on the floor, having been knocked to the ground, it wobbles pathetically._

_From beyond the mirror, you heard a murmuring. It vibrated from your mothers lips through the glass and into your head that was already racked with a throbbing pain. The stick had hit you hard, and you were still reeling, but your mothers words struck you again:_

_“....weak.”_

_The stick rolled slowly back towards you and you staggered to your feet, using the stick to push you up. Rolling your bruised shoulders back, you tighten your grip on your practice stick, turning to face your master again._

_He stood before you, stoic and still, watching you gather yourself back up. Behind him was the mirror, and behind the mirror three pairs of eyes watched you too without a word. Two from eyes that formed your very existence and one from behind a cold, dead mask. You would know if they said anything, the Force would be your ears._

_Your master prepared his stance yet again, his practice stick vibrating in his hand before floating free of his grasp. The stick hovered in place before snapping at an angle and staying perfectly still. You rested your stick on your elbow, bracing yourself for your next set._

_“Begin.”_

_All at once, your Master's stick began to fly and one hit at a time you deflected it; the first few seconds were the easiest. Twirling your double-sided practice stick, you took a step back, more to balance yourself against the blows of your master's stick. The stick, on its own, pushed by the Force alone, whirled under your feet and you kick back, narrowly missing getting knocked down a second time, the bruise on your arm screaming as you push off your wrists._

_Sticking the landing, you picked up your weapon to resume the fight. This was where your bruised shoulder was born, but you knew better this time, ducking and swinging your stick over your head, smacking your master's assault out of the air._

_You heard that word again, it oozed from the reflection of your battered body as you trained, “weak..” it was accompanied by the shifting of cloth, the hissing of a respirator._

_“Surely she's improved,” the voice you knew as Locke spoke timidly. He must have been standing in the shadows, eager to speak; eager to defend you._

_You struggled to keep up, the sticks clacking against each other with great force, enough to test the strength of your wrists that began to shake. With a yell, you parried again and again until the gritting of your teeth brought your headache back full force, blood dripping from your hairline. Your body wasn't able to keep up with this kind of torment—you were too young. Your youth kept your cheeks round, however flushed with exertion._

_More words started to catch in your ears, and you picked up pieces as their emphasis phased through the mirror and hung around you._

_“The First Order needs warriors not dead weight. She'll never be Sith.”_

_“Commander--”_

_“She'll never come close.”_

_Clack! You dodged a swing at your neck, leaning back, bracing yourself back on your hands. Lifting your practice stick, you braced the force of what would be the killing blow with your own staff, pressing up against it._

_“Others are better suited.”_

_Weakness trickled up into your arms as you pushed. Gritting your teeth, you felt your feet sliding underneath you, pressing you down further into the mat. You grunted, helplessly, forcing yourself to breathe harder, trying desperately to channel through the pain in your legs and in your arms. Exerting yourself with everything you had against the stick, and the words 'better suited', you fought for control; for balance._

_A door slid shut, and there was emptiness, just the two pairs, muttering to themselves._

_"She'll never do it," it was your mother, the queen. "She's not good enough."_

_Your father took a deep breath._

_With a roar you shoved the stick back, snapping upright, your hair dripping with sweat whipping around. Thrusting your hand out, your master's stick froze in place before it could come back down on you. Rage was rampant in you and your master, asserted his grip on his staff, but you hold it there. The Force tossed your hair over your face, the sheer amount of power causing the unused practice sticks to tremble in their holders. The harder your breathed, the harder the vibrations were that radiated from you and the higher your loose strands of hair rose. The words echoed in your head: Better Suited..better suited..._

_But there was no one watching, all the eyes were gone, even the ones hiding behind that lifeless mask. No one watched you shatter your masters stick with a force that left even your master, an aged and hardened Sith gaping in horror. And when the shards of wood settled on the training room floor, you dropped your arm, the room vacating immediately of all pressure._

_“Good.” said your master._

_You steadied yourself with a step back._

_“Very good.”_

-

Hair wound tight on your head, you powered down the hall. Having swapped your royal garments for your mothers Imperial flight suit, you were prepared; black on black, just the way you liked it.

With your helmet in your weathered hands, you lead your personal Omega Squadron, similarly dressed vipers in shining black flight suits towards the hangar. All around you, officers and other fighters made their way to the hangar, trotting in lines of two, boots clicking, the alarm that acted as prelude to battle echoing down the black steel halls.

When you rounded the corner, you were met with Commander Ren, who appeared at the opposite end of the hallway.. You knew he was coming; you could sense him coming from several yards away, and he knew you were coming too. He was coming to find you.

You stopped, raising your gloved fist ear-level. The pilots of your Omega squadron obeyed, coming to a hard halt. In unison, they slid into attention at a parade rest, snapping their heels, slipping their gloved hands behind their backs. They remained silent.

“Kellarov,” Your family name sounded sour on Ren's tongue, but there was an air of comfort and familiarity that came with it, as if he was relieved to see you. 

Alternatively, your voice was filled with disgust, “Ren.”

He was alone, but his entire presence occupied his end of the hallway, his mask staring at your face without a word. Since this morning's encounter, you had been lucky not to see him, but he knew you were stubborn and would be preparing for the battle.

Pulsing inquiries pushed against your brain, creating static on the ends of the lose hair around your face that resonated to your scalp, swirling around your consciousness. There was almost a romance about it, the way he tried to urge you to his bidding with his Force. He wished to speak with you.

“Awaiting your order, commander,” Atria, your second in command broke attention to step toward you. She hasn't taken her dark eyes from Ren, as protective of you as she always has been.

“Go,” you told Atria, your eyes still pinned to the commander. “See to it my ship is prepared for immediate launch, then await my command.”

Your right-hand clicked her heels, “Yes commander,” she turned to the rest of the squadron raising her right hand, “Omega, with me.”

Out of your peripherals, you watched your squadron take their leave, Atria leading them with confidence. They marched on either side of Commander Ren at the end of the hall, turning left on their heels towards the hangar.

The hallway was empty now, all save for you and your favorite thorn in your side.

“You've already deflected one direct order of mine, Ren,” you snarled, tucking your pilot's helmet under your arm, “Unless you're curious as to what might happen if you try me again, I suggest you step aside.”

“Voluntarily putting yourself in harms way for something as disposable as a Resistance transporter,” Ren droned, his voice reverberating against your eardrum, “After the First Order has already assigned your cause the resources you need..” Regardless of how long its been since you've heard his sultry voice, you resumed hating it right where you left off. “Must you always strive to make a fool of yourself?”

“Serving my father's army is making a fool of myself?” you scoffed, “I didn't realize. So what does that make you then? A hero?”

“And if they shoot you down--” Ren continued. He hadn't moved, standing perfectly still towering over you. Still, you met his faceless stare with your narrowed eyes.

“I've served as commander of this fleet since I could fly my mother's R-42,” you said darkly as you approached, taking every step slowly without taking your eyes off of his mask, “I've flown with my squadron in every conflict, every battle, every war the Kellarov family has known since the rise of your First Order.” Finally you were close to him, closer than earlier, close enough for him to turn his head down to look at you, “You think they have not tried?”'

“General Hux has several hundred TIE fighters at your disposal, and you still insist on this,”

“My participation in this fight has been guaranteed, commander,” you replied. “As for your own,” you kept your eyes on him, a smirk playing across your lips, “I can't say I'm surprised you're choosing to stay behind. Even Lord Vader had his own TIE.”

Ren turned his head lower, towards you as you came even closer. “This matter regarding the sanctity of your system is trivial to me,” he said, “General Hux insisted we aide you for the sake of our agreement. That being said, it is in our best interest one of us remains alive. I imagine any negotiations made with your mangled, frozen corpse would be one-sided,” You let him take your chin between his fingers, “ But then again--,”

You held your ground, the shock of contact threatening you to to fold under his touch. His glove was so cold, colder than his words, and colder than the hole he kept frigid in your chest.

“--your mother and father prove to be better suited in regards to the needs of the First Order.” _Better suited._ The snarl that turned your face dark reflected back at you from his mask, and without taking your eyes from him, you took his wrist in your hand, pulling it away. Your first mutual touch, yet the grip you held on him was less than romantic.

“Then I'll go,” you replied, your heart trembling with fury that not even the Force could contain. It lifted the stray hair off the back of your neck, “And whether or not you ever see me again will hang in your mind,”

“Always,”

Your next breath froze in your throat, and he reached up, catching a lock of your hair the Force was lifting away from your neck. The curl clung to his gloved finger like the grip of a small child on its caretaker. Slowly, you raised your own finger, freeing your curl from his grasp, letting it fall back around your cheek, “Really,” sarcasm colored your reply, but he doesn't seem fazed; only focused on you.

“Commander,” Atria's voice fuzzed in through your communicator. “Preparations have been completed. All fighters are prepared for launch, awaiting your command, ”

Without another word, you took a clean step to the side and clicked off down the hall, your heart beating faster than you ever allowed it to. You left Ren with echoes of your countenance on the insides of his eyelids, but still he didn't move, not even to catch your scent as it left him.

His word burned a hole in your brain, filling your available mental space with a pressure that forced you to repeat it to yourself over and over.

“ _Always.”_

Lifting the communicator to your lips, you pressed the button, “All fighters launch, I repeat, all fighters launch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You let Ren get in your head again. But now it was time to get that transporter.

Ren's words were still burning in your head, tearing open again the scars that gashed your heart. You were sure nothing he said would hurt you, and it was mortifying for him to see the weakness in your eyes. Could he know? Surely he couldn't. He was much too dense; even after all this time.

Or was he?

You pushed the thoughts from your head as you powered across the polished hangar floor—the color of the red sun of Kellarov Prime glistening off of the black steel. With trembling hands you tossed your helmet into the cockpit before lifting yourself up onto the wing. You weren't focused again until you were sitting in the pilot's seat of your Fury-class star fighter. Slipping down easily into the cockpit brought your focus back to the center—back on your mission—back to the transporter. The entirety of the Omega squadron was ready for launch despite your orders to leave, the hangar buzzing with the usual before-battle fuss. You pulled your helmet over your head, adjusting the visor over your eyes before rousing your astromech droid from the cockpit.

“M4-T3,” you said coldly.

The droid whirred attentively.

“Prepare for takeoff.” The droid chirped as you pulled your headset into place beside your mouth, “Lieutenant, whats the status on the transporter?”

“Still within Narinu planetary airspace, commander,” Atria replied through the com “Our scouts' radars indicate the transporter is in the southern hemisphere heading north.”

Disgust accompanied your second question, “And the First Order?”

Atria paused, “In pursuit. Kylo Ren has issued the order to engage,”

Your starfighter hummed to life as the cockpit slid shut over your head, sealing you in. Inside, the flight board lit up, casting blue and green lights up over your gloved hands as you prepared your ship for launch, “We take the quick route,” you said into the headset, “across the planet's pole to meet them on the other side. Timing this right will push the transporter into the First Order barricade and secure the take down, do you understand?”

“Yes, commander!”

Squaring your eyes straight ahead, you pushed on the launch button. Your starfighter hovered several feet from the reflective hangar floor, easing its way towards the gaping hangar doors. One by one the fighters in the Omega Squadron followed suit, chiming in on the com as they became ready. All at once, the squadron launched into hyperspace, and when the funnel of light ended, Narinu came into view.

Lush with green and pink trees, rivers and lakes acting as a more habitable planet than Etisin II, Narinu was the gem of the Kellarov system. To consider crashing this transporter on the planet's surface would be to scar its breathtaking beauty. It was all you could do to focus the transporter out of this planet's airspace. Narinu was sacred to you—it was the place that was home to your earliest childhood memory—it was the last place you saw your mother smile.

Within seconds, your radar was beeping rapidly, and when your turned your eyes to face front, you saw it dead ahead. Shoving hard on the throttle, you dropped out of the way of the Resistance transporter as it sailed into the space you freed from your formation.

“Blast!” you hissed between your teeth. Your starfighter wobbled as you regain control, M4 beeped confidently, issuing the coordinates of the escaping transporter. Shortly after came the TIE fighters —in a pack of three they whizzed through your squadron, narrowly missing the other starfighters. Slamming your hands on a few buttons and whirling the radio dial, you were free to scream into the com.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing!” steadying yourself in the tail of the transporter, you gave up all attempt to be sympathetic for idiot bucket heads.

“Following orders, ma'am.” came the voice from the squad leader.

“Your orders were to intercept the transporter, not start a mad dash to nearly get me killed!” you pushed hard on the throttle as the transporter zipped away, dodging the acid green blaster bolts. “And that's commander to you, you imbecile!”

“Commander Kellarov!” Atria's voice came in clear and concise over the com, “I'm locked on to the transporter!”

Suddenly, you were inspired, “Bring that thing to Etisin II!” you snapped adjusting your flight controls, “This is our chance to find that base.”

“All fighters execute maneuver ex!” Atria barked. The girls obeyed, pulling their starfighters away from yours. You kept your eyes on the transporter as it started to wobble. M4 relayed the scanned damage of the transporter to you and you acknowledged it with a command to your squadron:

“The right wing is damaged!” you called out, “Stay on the side and keep them facing Etisin II!”

With that, the chase began. Along side of the Transporter, the members of the Omega squadron pushed and urged the ship aground the curvature of the planet Narinu. The other two members of the Omega squad flew in between the transporter and Narinu, keeping them a safe distance from the planet in the event they veer off track. Keeping this equilibrium would sure get you back to Etisin II. Behind you, TIE fighters bobbed up and down, itching to take a shot, but you blocked them with your star fighter, moving your ship from side to side to prevent them from firing.

Putting yourself in between them was dangerous, sure, but you knew they would never shoot you down. They wouldn't even try.

“Commander Kellarov,” the squad leader contacts you again through the com, “orders from Kylo Ren demand we fire.”

You cruised your starfighter to the right again, putting yourself in between them and the transporter. “I don't care what Commander Ren told you,” you replied, “I am your commanding officer now and you will obey my orders!”

Open space was not far now and as you broke the atmosphere leading out of Narinu's airspace, you regained solid control of your ship. The Resistance transporter began to sway, and your squadron kept on it—out of range of the transporters blasters, enough to lure the ship towards Etisin II.

“Keep on it, Lieutenant! Just a little farther!”

Suddenly, came a second squadron of TIE fighters from the direction of Etisin II. There were six of them and per your frantic command, the Omega squadron scattered, leaving the transporter vulnerable for an escape.

The transporter dipped and dodged the blaster shots and you dove hard, the shots taking out a TIE fighter behind you. The ship exploded in your wake and you switch radio channels again, “I thought I told you to stand down!”

“How did I know you would attempt to interfere with my orders?” The voice was Ren's. As it came through the com, it made your chest grow hot with rage.

“Need I remind you, Ren,” you snarled yanking hard on your throttle pushing your starfighter in range of the transporter. “Our agreement states any altercation to occur within the Kellarov Star System is personal business of the Kellarov Royal Family.” Finally you squared yourself on the tail of the transporter, M4 beeping that you were locked on, “Call your fighters off! NOW!”

Ren was easy in his reply, “My order was clear--”

The transporter took a sudden falling dive towards Narinu in an attempt to shake off the Omega Squadron fighters. They followed up quickly as the maneuver still persisted to push it towards Etisin II. You had hopes it would make a desperate dash for this outpost if it thought they had shaken you. But you had to make it there first.

“--First Order troops are to retrieve any captives from the downed Resistance Transporter,” Ren droned through the com, “and that any surviving Resistance scum be brought to the Finalizer for interrogation.”

“And what do you think I'm doing?” The Omega squadron eased themselves back into position, despite the buzzing of First Order TIE fighters. They dodged them gracefully, falling right back into formation. The First Order TIEs hadn't taken any shots yet—you only hoped your squadron would be fast enough to dodge the pending flurry of bolts.

With a gentle thump and change of air pressure, you were back in Narinu airspace—the arrival of the TIE fighters pushing the transporter down an alternate route back into the temperate atmosphere of Narinu. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, damnit, but the squadron kept up.

Atria lead the pack, threatening to nudge the wounded transporter back up towards open space. TIE fighters broke down into the atmosphere and followed up the chase that you led yourself.

They were dipping and bobbing—still looking for a shot. When the time arose, the green bolts started to fly. M4 screeched as the bolts flew in, just clipping the wings of your squadron. At this point, they would be lucky to push it back into open space. The crash was going to be here.

“Ren, pull back! You're going to shoot one of us down!”

“Going against not only my orders,” he ignored your previous statement, “but those of your own parents? You truly are a disgrace,”

“My parents!” you roared. Focus you tell yourself, you have to focus. “My parents have raised me better than to sit idle when the sanctity of our home is at risk. You wish your parents had the decency and dignity of--”

You hadn't been paying attention. When you snap your eyes back forward, two bright green shots closed in on you and you pulled back on the throttle hard. But it was too late.

_Fzzt!_

“...Kellarov?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story so far...the Resistance transporter has been shot down..but so were you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH I FINALLY HAD TIME TO DO THIS! I had to add a very important section to this chapter that would be important later on, and in my initial draft, this section was rushed. So here it is, chapter five!

Images of Narinu drifted across the insides of your eyelids. You saw the afternoon sunlight against a sky of emerald and aquamarine. There was warmth, laughter and something else you haven’t felt in a long time. 

You felt no presence of the First Order, no pain only the soft hands of your mother that you could barely remember.

Your consciousness was freefalling, your heart swelling with pleasure--unabashed joy, and then pain. Unbearable pain, pain that made you scream out into the darkness despite lacking the control of your muscles to do so. Tumbling over yourself, you tried to fight it, the urge to disappear--something kept you strong and it sounded like--

_ Vatari Kellarov _

You heard the voice in your head, but it wasn’t the voice of Kylo Ren--he never spoke your name--it was something much more insidious.

_ Power. _

Chanting pounded your head like a drum of war, and you remembered every beat of it. In your head, you heard the whispering, letters appearing in the palace medium’s scrying crystals. Your dinner silvers clattered to the floor and your fingers made metal scalding and melt in your hand. Everything you touched vibrated to its core and the words appeared in the air before your very eyes.

_ Destiny. _

You were awake in the darkness, the black moon of Kellarov Prime shining eclipsed red light into your bedroom. Blanket to your chin, you squeezed your eyes shut, but the word made your blood run backwards through your veins. Something was wrong with you. Something in your blood did not belong. It was omnipresent in the universe and you knew this without knowing why. In your bed, you were young and there was someone else; a dark figure against your mind with blood on his hands. He was reaching out, but you weren’t ready yet.

Then, a mask, lifeless and dead.

Kylo Ren.

Suddenly, you were awake, gasping for air on the pebbled shores of Narinu. The Force replaced your blood, giving your muscles the will to move, its influence sparking on the insides of your ligaments. You were immediately upright, short, shallow breaths uring your body to repair itself. You put your gloved hands on your chest and face, looking for more proof, but the sensation of your hands on your face was all you needed to know; you were alive.

Off in the distance, a plume of smoke billowed from the line of colorful trees--your ship no doubt, shot down by Ren. Gathering yourself, you hunched forward, hand against your gut.  _ No severe injuries _ you concluded, letting the Force slide along your insides,  _ I’m fortunate _ .

From the shallows, a black com drifted towards you. It sparked as it settled against the pebbles and with your gloved hand, you reached over to pick it up. Pushing the com button you called once:

“Oh-One, come in,” The com sizzled, and you tried again, “Omega squadron this is Black Leader, do you copy?”

The com responded with a static popping that forced you to drop it back to the ground as it malfunctioned. Grimacing, you put your hand into the water to push yourself up.

On your feet, you cast your gaze to the plume of smoke in the distance, using every possible chance to catch your breath. Your recurring fright was unsettling and it shivered you through the temperate humidity of Narinu’s atmosphere. It had been years since you heard your name in the gravelly voice of the Supreme Leader without the monumental  presence of your master in the council chamber. It had been years since you heard the word ‘destiny’ snake its way into your thoughts.

And the ominous vision of his mask; something was not right.

In the way you felt wrong as a child with the Force in your veins, you felt wrong now--that something bubbled in your skin and you clenched your fist.

This discomfort would have to wait. Pulling your Force presence back to you, you pinpointed the location of a village. They were sure to have a ship.

Taking one step, your ears perked to something that shifted in the bushes. You heard the labored breathing and a rapidly pounding heart within your presence grasp. A hand clutched a malfunctioned com and a grin crawled across your face.

A survivor.

 

-

“Kellarov?”

No response.

The comlink in Ren's hand fizzled when he pushed the button, repeating your name into the mouthpiece.

“Kellarov--”

Behind him, the bridge of the Finalizer buzzed with officers scrambling for reports on the downed transporter. The blast door slid open and General Hux entered, his neck and ears red with fury, but before he could speak, Ren cut him off--

“Your report, general,”

Hux stopped short of his initial advance, curling his lip in disgust “Our scouts have yet to recover Vatari's starfighter, commander,” he snarled, “I told you not to give the order to fire and—”

“--have you alerted the King and Queen?”

“Alerted the--” Hux huffed, his patience quickly dwindling, “And tell them what, you shot down their only daughter?”

“Your men shot down their only daughter,” Ren corrected, “It would be a courtesy to them to know their daughter died in the field of battle—for the sanctity of the Kellarov system.” He tucked the comlink into his belt.

“Not until we find the wreckage,” Hux said “I have reason to believe she's still alive.”'

“It's been several hours, general,” Ren stated, “The wreckage of the transporter has since been located—all personnel inside have been pronounced dead. It's only safe to say if Vatari's ship is out there it has been smashed to pieces and with it, the princess.”

Again, the door to the bridge opened. General Locke entered with Atria close behind. Your first lieutenant clenched her trembling fist around the visor of a charred helmet, her lips pulled into a straight line. Locke was pale, holding his datapad with a sweaty palm.

“Commander Ren,” Ren and Hux turn as they entered, Locke's voice cracking—he cleared his throat, “Your draft has been completed. Ready for your signature,”

“Good. I plan on sending it to Sera and Tiberius myself,” Ren said, He nodded in the direction of Hux “General, your final words?”

Hux took his time on the reply, returning Ren’s faceless gaze with a sour glare. “Lieutenant,” Hux turned his eyes forward to Atria, eyes flashing down to the helmet briefly, trying to forget he saw familiar letters etched in the side of it, “What did you find on Narinu? Any sign of the princess?”

Not taking her eyes off of Ren your first lieutenant stepped forward and held the charred helmet against her chest.

The commander didn't budge, just stared back at her puffy red eyes.

Her voice barely broke a whisper when she spoke, “It's Vatari's.”

Locke lowered his eyes in respect. Hux exhaled through his nostrils, rolling his fists tight at his side.

Ren stepped forward, raising his gloved hand to her. “Give it to me,” he ordered.

Atria tightened her grip around the visor, “No,” her voice trailed to silence “I won't.”

“I won't ask you again,”

Atria shied away, turning a defensive shoulder away from him “This is all I have left of my commander you will not take this from me,” she whispered, teeth clenched.

“If you do not wish to be terminated for denial to surrender the only piece left of Princess Vatari Kellarov, I suggest you obey my order.”

“Lieutenant,” Locke said quietly. He rested his hand on Atria's shaking shoulder and she jumped. Without taking her eyes off of Ren, she let go of the helmet. It crashed to the floor, ash peppering the durasteel.

The entire bridge hummed with silence.

“Permission to be dismissed,” Atria whispered, “sir,”

Locke frowned, “Granted.”

“General Hux!”

Before Atria could leave, all attention on the bridge was brought to lieutenant Mitaka who finally arrived. He was slightly winded, beads of sweat forming around his ears having just run from the hangar's control center. He frantically searched the faces of the people standing in the middle of the bridge, but when he caught the general's gaze, Hux's eyes warned him that this better be good.

“There's an unmarked Starship in our sector--” Mitaka panted, “they're approaching fast.”

Hux turned away from Mitaka to the central control system, snapping his wrists behind his back,

“Communications—identify this starfighter. Scan for familiar life forms,”

“General--” Ren began.

Atria ripped her shoulder from Locke’s hand and shoved the communication’s officer aside. She watched the radar beep and she closed her shaking hand, “That’s a Kellarov ship,” she breathed, “That’s Vatari,”

“Your commander is dead, lieutenant!” Ren shouted whirling around, but Atria did not even turn to address him back, “General Locke, send that document immediately. The sooner the king and queen are informed of their daughter's fate, the sooner we can continue in the search for this Resistance outpost.”

Hux turned back to Locke, “Do not send that document, general—not until we've identified this Starfighter.”

Mitaka clutched his datapad as it started beeping. Notifications from the Hangar control room began to flood in faster than he could relay them to Hux “General, the ship is inside the hangar. The pilot is en route to the bridge,”

“Send it!” Ren roared.

Locke and Atria share a gaze before he obeys, the message disappearing from his datapad to the Rondur system.

“What is it you hope to find, Hux?” Ren snarled turning back , “The princess is gone. Captain,”

Phasma stepped forward from the shadows of the bridge, clicking her heels as she responded to

Ren's summons, “Sir,”

“Tell General Hux what it was you found on Narinu in regards to Commander Kellarov,”

“Nothing, sir,” replied Phasma, “Nothing but ash,”

When Ren echoed her, he turned his gaze back to Hux, “Phasma has scoured the planet's entire surface. She's gone,”

The blast door opened and when it did, all eyes turned to face it.

You entered, dragging a man in a Resistance jacket by the collar. Locks of your dark, wavy hair were falling out of your bun, scratches and bruises scattered across your neck and shoulders. 

Your black flight suit of the Royal Dark Army was shredded nearly to pieces, your sleeves having been ripped off to make tourniquets to stop the bleeding in your legs. Your eyes were squared on Ren and you stared hard each other until you were feet from him—your eyes not even leaving his to acknowledge Atria.

“Comma--,”

With your boot, you kick the prisoner behind the knees his grunt cutting off Atria's exclamation with a whimper.

“Your prisoner,” you snarled.

Ren's Force presence greeted yours silently, like the touch of a loved one's hand after years of being apart, but there was no love to be had. Not now. 

_ Kylo Ren. _

You saw the blaster shot come from his lieutenant TIE pilot—you knew he issued the order. You knew he tried to kill you. Locke and Atria were frozen in place, your lieutenant cupping her hand over her mouth. Not only were you alive—you brought the prisoner in one piece, primed for interrogation. Just as you were told.

“Captain,” Ren said after a deathly silence. He removed his eyes from you to Phasma who stepped out from behind you. “Take the prisoner to the interrogation chamber,”

Phasma clicked her heels and obeyed, her massive form coming to relieve you of the prisoner. He was yanked to his feet by the collar and dragged back towards the blast door where he came from.

When the door slid open, then sealed back shut, you were left standing, chest heaving, eyes still locked on Ren.

Hux, struck silent, moved only his eyes to Lieutenant Mitaka who nodded discreetly. “General Locke—Lieutenant Signas,” Mitaka said, “If you'll come with me--,”

Locke nodded, taking Atria gently by the elbow, leading her off the bridge, and out of your sight. He murmured words of comfort to her—she'll see you soon, you are safe now. Still you kept your eyes square on Ren, waiting for him to say something—anything. Receiving an apology would be asking too much, considering how sure you were he gave the order himself to shoot you down, and how you survived even that. This was something you didn't even know yourself.

A rapid beeping called the attention of General Hux and Mitaka and when Hux received the message, he spoke, “Its the King and Queen.”

“Would you be so kind, general,” you said finally, “to prepare me a private audience,”

Hux hesitated to reply, reading the rest of the message on the data pad.

You turn your head to him, the gash across your cheek threatening to open again when you snarled, “Well?”

“They insist Commander Ren join you,”

Your chest washed over with a sharp cold that lingered in your chest amidst the pain you felt in your ribs and abdomen. Before you could draw a large enough breath to reply, Ren cut you off.

“Prepare _us_ a private audience,”

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Story so Far...Despite evidence that suggested you fell victim to a fatal blaster shot over Narinu, Not only did you survive the crash, but you retrieved the prisoner  
> for, Kylo Ren to interrogate.
> 
> But first, an incoming transmission from Queen Sera and King Tiberius, your parents, who quite frankly, didn't have to hear about this.

Side by side, you and Kylo Ren stood in the darkness of an empty meeting room. You hadn't said a word to each other, you, barely able to stand on your own from the aches and injuries you sustained, and Ren, unable to come to terms with you being alive, avoided your eyes with confidence. You had done your best to make yourself presentable, concerning yourself more with your posture than your clothes. There wasn't enough time before your mother and father would be on the holocom

Hux entered with the com in his hands, setting it at the head of the meeting room desk several feet in front you. He stood before it just as it blinked to life, filling the dark room with blue light. On the floor was the boundary of the projection, stopping at your toes, only Hux inside of the boundary completely, preparing to be presented. The three of your remained stoic as it beeped once, then twice before holocom spoke the message that flashed in the blue light:

INCOMING TRANSMISSION...

INCOMING TRANSMISSION...

In an instant, you beheld your parents.

King Tiberius Kellarov was a tall and fearless man. Growing up, the tales of his family's heroics in the criminal underworld before he served the Empire were widespread. He had seen sectors of space you thought goodness and dignity had abandoned, not that you had seen much of that in your own lifetime. As he stood before you, projected in that soft blue light, you could see the years that hardened him.

Likewise, Queen Sera stood with her hands at her sides, her sharp shoulders pulled back with a disapproving look on her angled face. The former commander of the Omega squadron, it was very obvious that Tiberius was the one who married into royalty. Sera was as vicious as she was beautiful-- a viper and a vixen, she was the visual representation of the worst pain you could ever harbor. She barely took the chance to greet General Hux before her eyes snapped over his shoulder, searching for you no doubt

You and Ren watched as Hux paid his respects, dropping to one knee and bowing his head, “Your majesty,”

“General Hux,” Tiberius spoke first when Hux returned to his feet, “Are they prese--”

“--Vatari,”

Your mother's voice cut like a knife and it silenced Hux even before he could speak. The general pressed his lips together and turned his shoulders towards you. He offered a nod in your direction and you returned it with a pained stare. Hux returned his eyes to the full sized projections of your parents and bowed again before stepping out of the boundary

Taking a slow breath, you entered the blue boundary. Your mother pulled herself straighter, if that was possible, looking down her nose at you, your father exhaling a breath he was holding through his beard.

“So you're not a steaming pile of ash,” Sera muttered.

You grimace, holding her gaze the best you could.

“Tell me, stupid girl, why it is we received a letter from General Locke offering grievances on the account of you disobeying our orders?”

Choosing your next words carefully, you clenched and released your fist before raising your eyes to the queen, “Mother,” you said sourly, “there's a Resistance outpost—”

“I already know about your idiot accusation of this outpost. I don't care if the Resistance built their bloody base on the palace grounds, who do you think you are to defy the orders from your own mother?”

From behind you, Ren stirred, and the walls around your consciousness began to construct themselves. You felt ticklings on the back of your neck like a hand, but you shuddered, shaking the sensation away from you.

You tried again, this time louder, “They've built an outpost on Etisin II,” you said as clearly as you could. Every breath you took sent sharp pains through your abdomen and into your back and neck as your body desperately tried to repair itself from the inside. “I shot down the transporter myself. The prisoner is to be interrogated.”

“What were my orders?” Sera's voice dropped to a menacing snarl, pronouncing every word slowly and with a curl in her pretty lips.

“Mother, I—”

“--What were my orders!”

Your chest iced over and as you tried again to collect yourself, the calm was everfleeting. Your words were falling short of you saying them and suddenly you felt disgustingly exposed. Pressing your lips together you breathed to try a third time, but Ren stepped forward into the boundary.

“Her orders were not to fly,” Ren's voice reverberated in your direction from your right as he took his place beside you, looking up to your mother and father, “ I assure you, Queen Sera, I advised against it.”

“Commander Ren,” your mother's voice was sweeter than you had ever heard it, but it turned sour when it was directed at you, “I understand it was your efforts that returned our disobedient mistake of a daughter to us,”

“ 'Returned me'?! He tried to shoot me down!” you shouted, “I had a clear shot on the Transporter—Mother—Father!” you paused to breathe, gripping your ribs suddenly as a fresh new pain ripped through your body. “I was only acting within the limits of our agreement with the First Order! Ren tried to kill me!”

“SILENCE!”

The holocom flickered following Sera's outburst, but the ferocity she exerted remained in her eyes and in her posture. You felt tears well up inside your eyelids, a sensation you hadn't felt since your training days. Your master would be ashamed of you if he saw you now—weak and trembling in the presence of the woman who raised you; at least supposedly.

“Commander Ren,” Tiberius spoke quietly, his rumbling voice offering chilled relief to the scathing burns of Sera's rage, “Is this true? Is there a Resistance Outpost within the Kellarov System?”

“Yes, your majesty,” Ren replied taking another small step forward, “Our scouts picked up familiar radio signals from the Finalizer. We are led to believe this outpost is home to a Resistance reconnaissance after details of Starkiller Base.”

“And you've obtained a prisoner?”

“The passing transporter spotted by the Royal Dark Army was shot down hours ago,” Ren said easily, “The First Order has acquired a single prisoner and we will begin the interrogation upon the completion of this transmission,”

“Go now,” Sera commanded, “The King and I need a word with our daughter. Alone.”

There was a short silence, sharper and more agonizing than the last. You were sure this was where Sera would cut deep.

Ren nodded and bowed again, deeper than before, “Your majesty.” He turned his mask to you, and you do everything in your power not to return his gaze, “Princess,”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him leave following General Hux until the door slid shut, concealing you in darkness. You were alone now, left only with the hologram projections of your parents and the pain that you sustained in the defense of the Kellarov System.

Sera took a long difficult breath, hardly waiting for her husband to gather himself before beginning her verbal assault. “Insolent girl,” she snarled through her teeth “How foolish can you be?”

You take a breath to respond--

“--you will hold your tongue when I am speaking to you.” Sera snapped. You obeyed, adjusting your shoulders, feeling them creak and crack. “This is not the first time you have dishonored the Kellarov Dynasty. Is it your hope to run the rest of this family in the ground?”

“You trained me to fight,” you began your own train of thought with confidence, hoping to deflect your mother's driving point.

“And I trained you to watch your bloody tongue, yet you haven't shown me any ounce of self control in either regard. Tell me, idiot girl—what purpose do you serve in the name of the Kellarov family?”

You fell silent, unsure whether she was finished yelling or if you would get a chance to speak, taking another difficult breath. Blood filled your mouth when you cough and with a pained grimace, you swallowed it back down, “You may consider me an idiot, but you would not have trained me if you didn't consider me capable—if you had any doubt I would fail,”

“And yet here you stand having failed us for the umpteenth time. I ask you again--”

You've heard this lecture before; ten years ago, when you a sniveling girl, after your first training session left you bleeding and bruised, she gripped your slashed shoulders and stared you hard in the face, asking you over and over-

“--do you know what your purpose is in serving my family?”

“To preserve--” a shuddering breath forced you to pause, “to preserve the Kellarov name,”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

“Defending what is theirs,”

“And?”

This was the part you always forgot—you tried again to regain control of the argument, “Mother--How can I defend your dynasty without fighting?” you snarled, “You trained me for ten years to take up the Kellarov banner in the conquest by the will of the First Order—to become a worthy heir,”

“You are no heir,” Sera hissed.

Fire turned to ice in your chest and you held your tongue as your mother expected you to.

“You forget your place—you forget the very reason you live and breathe. Not only have you proven to be a poor excuse for a commander, but an even more disappointing daughter,” Sera continued, “Commander Ren is and always has been a much more capable and suitable commander than you--”

“--you've been poisoning his mind!” your outburst was so sudden, even you did not expect it. But with your parents' attention, you continued, “Since you left Kellarov Prime, he has done nothing but patronize me! He will not consider a damned thing I say simply because you, my own mother and father refuse to put their trust in me!” Your eyes frantically flashed between your mother and father, “You have set me up to fail in Commander Ren's shadow!”

“Why should we trust you?” Tiberius finally found room to speak, “Do you deny your contribution has paled in comparison to Commander Ren's?”

“--father..” Your teeth clamped down on the inside of your mouth and you hesitated before replying, trying a dose of humility, “Commander Ren's training has surpassed my own by a decade. I need more training to even come close..”

“You could train for ten more years and still your incompetence would shine out against everything you claim to have worked for,” Sera growled. She pulled her skirts about her and took a step forward, her projection flickering in and out of focus.

“You have exhausted your worth, Vatari,” she continued, each iteration of her voice getting sharper and harder to listen to, “You may be a child of the Force—you may have wasted your entire adolescence training in the seat of my starfighter that you may one day command your father's army with the same dignity as he did, but now—in the light and presence of this First Order, you have fallen disgustingly flat,”

You clenched your bruised fist.

“Our first and last hope for your miserable hide was to put your cunt to proper use, but you couldn't even keep your vile mouth from presenting yourself as the ugly opinionated wench that you are,” Sera pulled her shoulders straight.

“--mother,” you tried.

“SILENCE!”

You fell silent, finally realizing you were trembling.

“Remember this, you useless whore:” Sera's projection got dangerously close to you, the lightning in her eyes nearly translating through the light blue hologram. “You may think you're strong and you may think you're wise, but the only thing you are worth in my eyes and in the eyes of this kingdom is what you hold in between your legs--and no amount of power and prestige will ever eclipse that!”

Defeated, you hung your head, finally unable to look your mother in the eye. Any words you had hoped to say died on your tongue.

“Do you understand?” 

“Yes, mother,” you whispered. Breathing as deep as your chest would allow, you centered yourself, but when you raise your eyes, the holocom flicked off leaving you in asphyxiating darkness.

You stood there in the darkness, breathing struggling to push through your lungs. Fighting the urge to lean against the table you finally whimper, the pain in your ribs overcoming the adrenaline you harbored arguing with your mother. Sweat mingled with the threat of tears, but you choked them back.

No. Not yet.

With a hiss, the door slid open and light poured in. Light washed over your face, revealing streaks of sweat mistook for tears by Atria, who strained to see inside the dark meeting room. She stared at you for some time, swallowing before parting her lips to speak,

“Commander Kellarov,” she said firmly.

Not moving for a few seconds, you slowly pulled your back straight, unable to turn you face to her.

Something itched in the back of your brain. It was a data file that you kept tucked on your person tight in your uniform. It was a dark night, darker than the room without the blue light of the holocom you hoped to never see again. You recorded a cryptic set of orders in basic, your eyes filled with tears. You clutched it in the darkness of your quarters, unsure if you'd ever see this in anyone's hands, but now, your blood was colder than permafrost.

_Destiny._

“Atria,” your voice cracked as you addressed her, the aching in your heart drying your throat to a painful scratch, “Do you trust me?”

Your first lieutenant nodded, “With my life,” she said.

You turn your pained body to her, taking a slow and painful step, fully revealing your face, battered, bruised, but still beautiful. When your gaze met Atria's, there was a moment of calm, but your heart couldn't stop racing, “There's something you must do.” You reached your shaking hand into your flight suit and revealed a chip. The same chip you've kept for a decade. You put the chip into Atria's trembling hand and closed her fist around it.

“Here are your orders,” you whispered, “They are to be carried out immediately.. take only the squadron, tell no one.”

“Yes, commander.” Atria responded without blinking.

A pair of footsteps hurried up the hall and Atria tucked the chip hurriedly into the breast of her jumpsuit.

Lieutenant Mitaka appeared and snapped his heels together, “Commander Kellarov,” he said promptly.

You didn't reply, and as Atria took her leave, you shared one more reassuring nod before you met Mitaka's eyes again.

“The interrogation is about to begin,” he said.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Story so Far...
> 
> After your mother, father, and Kylo Ren himself put you in your place, you issue a secret order to you most trusted lieutenant Atria to be carried out immediately. In the meantime, there is a prisoner to be interrogated and Ren has  
> already started without you.

The Force was strong in the interrogation chamber.

It throbbed beck and forth between Ren's gloved hand and the bloody, screaming face of your nameless prisoner; most of the wounds this prisoner exhibited were from your own hand. On Narinu, you had alternated deflecting his blaster bolts with your light saber back in his direction and hurling the hilt like a boomerang to knock him flat. When he was in your grasp, you're sure you cracked one of his ribs with your kneecap in addition to knocking out a tooth or two with your elbow.

But Ren didn't know that. Kylo Ren didn't care. He didn't care that the recklessness of his own order sent you hurtling towards Narinu, with barely enough time to eject before your prized star fighter burst into flames. He didn't care about that, despite sustaining several potentially fatal injuries, you tackled the only surviving member of that Resistance transporter and made sure he got back alive.

But he didn't know that. Nor did he care.

Instead, Ren interrogated the prisoner as you expected him to; lifeless mask inches from the prisoner's face, only the sound of the respirator, the high pitched buzzing of the Force digging information from his brain, and the prisoner's blood-curdling screams.

You were leaning against the wall in the back, having been given a shot of serum that made all pain still present in your body soft. With every deep breath you took, you crept closer to being at ease, but your heart was the only thing that disagreed with you. It was racing inside of your chest with the last words you spoke to Atria: 'tell no one'.

It sent a shiver down your spine.

The prisoner stopped screaming suddenly, Ren lowered his hand. Sweeping his cloak around, you watched him circle the prisoner like a wild Tuskcat, waiting for scraps of raw meat to fall at his feet. He wasn't getting anywhere, you could feel it on the edge of his fingers that rolled uncomfortably into his palm. The air was not settled there—or anywhere on his person.

“Do you wish to live?” he droned simply.

You took another deep breath and lowered your eyes.

“The Resistance..will not be intimidated by the likes of you,”

It was the eleventh time you've witnessed this very exchange and still the prisoner showed no signs of budging. Still, Ren circled him, “Your general must be worried sick about you,” he grunted through his teeth, “What a shame for her to never see you again.”

Exhaling through your nose, you fold your arms tighter across your chest, fighitn back urges to commandeer this interrogation. After all, this was your prisoner—this is your star system and Kylo Ren has no business forcing you to obey his every whim and interrogating you prisoner.

“What a shame to know you will die here,” Ren continued, keeping his face dangerously close to that of the Resistance pilor “unless you tell us where the outpost is.”

“The Resistance,” the prisoner whispered, “will not--”

In an instant, your hand flies to your blaster and you advance, shoving Ren aside and pushing the barrel to the prisoner's sweating forehead. Ren allows himself to be pushed, his shoulder leading his body in falling one step back. “Where's the base?” you snapped.

This was not a request. This was a demand.

“Kellarov--”

“Shut your mouth, Ren,” you directed a single stare at him, sharp enough to cut through the chrome and steel of his helmet, “I'm fed up with your child's play.”

You asserted your grip on the blaster, pressing it into the prisoner's brow returning your dark eyes to his bloody face, “The base. Where is it?”

“The Res--”

CRACK!

Without hesitation, you swung your blaster hand, whipping your wrist and striking the prisoner with your pistol. The impact point on his cheekbone began to bruise immediately, a fresh cut oozing red with blood joining the rivers already beginning to crust over. Clenching your teeth, you released the safety with your thumb with a satisfying click, “Where..is..the base? Don't make me ask you again.”

Ren took a small step back, then retreated to the corner you previously occupied, watching you closely.

“I'll never tell you,” the man groaned, but his heart to change his word choice didn't relieve you.

There was still information, there was still intimidation.

“Do you know where you are?” you whispered, barely louder than the humming of the Finalizer all around you.

The prisoner was silent, but you still felt his heartbeat against your twitching nostrils. He remained quiet—perhaps deciding against telling you the Resistance will not be intimated by the likes of you. Maybe he considered the likes of you aren't to be trifled with.

“You have no idea, do you?” you almost smirked, but your face remained cold and hard as you trembled with anticipation, “Yet you found the need to inhabit my star system for your pathetic attempt at a reconnaissance mission, didn't you?”

The prisoner said nothing, his cheek beginning to swell. You knew he wasn't going to talk—that was perfectly fine with you.

“Then allow me to formally welcome you to the Kellarov Star System; a collection of militant planet systems in service to the First Order,” you said calmly despite the rage bubbling in your chest, “But you knew that didn't you?”

The prisoner shifted uncomfortably.

“You knew damn well that the Resistance was sending you to the same star system that served the Darth Vader's Empire and knowing this, you must know damn well you will not leave here without a blaster shot between your eyes, so I suggest you reconsider your vows of silence. In exchange, you have my word your death will be swift.”

He did not respond.

“And still you are silent,” you whispered. You moved your arm—quickly and fully extended to the prisoner's thigh before pulling the trigger once. A single blaster shot exploded from the barrel and the prisoner screamed, sparks flying as it penetrated one of the restraints bars into his flesh. When the shot completed, the prisoner was left bleeding from the fresh wound in his leg, “That's better,” you snarled.

Ren too, was silent. You felt his eyes on the back of your head, watching you without objection to your tactics. You had his attention now and you reveled in it. You rejoiced in the fact he hadn't said a damn word since you started and that alone was motivation enough for you to continue just as you were.

Politely, you waited for the prisoner's cries to reduce to whimpers, and you watched him draw any air he could sharply between clenched teeth with every breath.

“Now,” you said with a sigh, “Are you ready to talk?”

“The Resistance will not be intimid--” 

Your second shot goes off in the direction of his groin, blasting his cock to pieces. His screams became instantly stained with agony and he shrieked louder than he did when Ren has his hand to his head. The blood began to ooze from his orange pilot's jumpsuit, turning the fabric a dark crimson stained with brown.

“You haven't figured it out, yet, have you?”

The pilot did not respond, desperately trying to keep himself from passing out, the extreme injuries he sustained slowly overcoming him. You both knew—falling out of consciousness would mean it would be easier to dig in his mind for the answer you sought than for you to deliver the killing blow.

“I'm sure you're asking yourself,” you grinned wickedly “--How can I-- a woman--wield so much power here? Why is it I continuously demand you tell me the the location of your stupid little base of operation?” you held your blaster steadier than ever, finger brushing teasingly over the trigger, “But I don't think you realize just who exactly I am.”

The prisoner didn't reply, still, and when he took a shaking breath, you can feel the words he's going to say—your third shot pierces his shoulder and he screams, his voice beginning to go hoarse from the vocal exertion.

“I am Vatari Kellarov!” you brought your voice louder than the screaming of the prisoner, “Only daughter of Queen Sera and King Tiberius Kellarov, Commander of the Royal Dark Army. I've trained since adolescence in the forbidden arts of the dark side of the Force—I've killed more men without laying my hands on them than times you have wished you were dead since you've arrived here.”

Ren lifted his chin.

“I am the very terror that grips this star system—the very reason why your beloved General tells you to keep your mouth shut at all costs when speaking to me,” you pushed the blaster into the prisoner's head, shoving his skull against the headrest. “There is no one in this galaxy who does not fear me,” you hissed.

The silence returned, thicker and heavier than before.

“Now..” you panted, “Do not make me ask you again.”

The prisoner opened his eyes slowly, barely able to focus on you, as he breathed as deeply as he could—sweat beading on his forehead. When he collected himself enough to speak, he parted his broken lips “The Res--”

You flung your hand up as Ren had done, replacing the barrel of your blaster; the Force screaming to life between your fingers reaching forcibly deep into his brain. The prisoner began to scream again, consistently and painfully, but it only urged you to dig deeper.

“ _Do I not terrify you!_ ” you shrieked, the Force swirling around you now, lifting your hair in a whirlwind of hot energy that dried the blood on the prisoner's tear and bloodstained face. The pressure caught Ren's cloak and cowl and ebbed against his still form.

“ _Must I show you myself just how powerful I am!_ "

Ren didn't move, and from the back corner of the room Hux remained at attention, swallowing down the fear he tried so hard to keep in check.

“You have forced my hand--” you hissed, “You will rue the day you crossed the likes of me!” With a yell, you punctured the final mental defenses of the prisoner.

Images flashed across your eyes as you gripped his memories tightly in your fist, flying through everything this man has ever seen. The fire you pressed into his skull caused his cranium to tremble under the immense pressure as you searched, deeper and deeper for a clue—the location of the Resistance outpost.

Faster and faster, deeper and deeper you delved, passing things even the man's wife hadn't seen— moments in his life, happiness, sadness, passion and loss—every single day he spent fighting for the Resistance. Images you've never seen before in all your life—a mother, a father..and a baby girl. He fought for his family.

And you fought back tears born of exertion, frustration and hatred. You watched the dark haired baby bounce on a woman's knee in the sunshine—hearing laughter; genuine giggles that flooded his memory and haunted your ears. Who is this woman? It wasn't anyone you had ever known in your life, but the familiarity was painstakingly poignant. Gritting your teeth, you pushed through the pain, your eyes turning white in your Force-inducted trance.

“..larov!”

Against your will, you see yourself inside of his mind—only a child, so young and full of potential. It was you—small and unsuspecting on your mother's lap. You're on Narinu, its springtime and she is smiling. Forcing yourself to stay focused, you squeeze your eyes shut. This was not your mind—this was not your joy. This is guilt. Your Master's words are echoing between your ears,

_Hate them, Vatari. Hate them with your whole heart._

You forced the visions to leave Narinu—leave the sunny countryside—leave the only joyous moment you've ever experienced. The information you were looking for was so close. You began to see the dense jungles of Etisin II, and a ship lifting out of the treeline.

“Kellarov!”

You came back suddenly. As if the lights had been shut out, you were thrust back into your own body. A trickle of blood oozed from your right nostril and you wiped it mindlessly with the back of your hand. You were lightheaded, but still standing, feeling the tickling of the pain killing serum begin to wear off. That didn't matter now--you had your answer.

The prisoner was slumped before you, eyes open, no longer breathing. Blood ran thick from his eyesockets and ear canals on either side of his head. He was dead.

Ren pushed off the wall, “Well?” he asserted. 

“Northern Hemisphere,” you panted, “Rima Forest, East of the Helneon Valley.”

“Assemble the council,” Ren said firmly to General Hux who you was still standing in the far corner of the room. The General turned on his heels and exited the interrogation chamber without hesitation.

Heaving, you caught your breath, and when you stagger, Ren made no effort to catch you—only watching as you braced yourself against the restraint that held the corpse of the prisoner. You mind was stuck on his family—the portrait that you saw so clearly, it was almost tangible. But it was your face..and it was your mother's face and it was your father's face. Again you felt it. Guilt.

_Tell no  one._

“Excellent,” Ren said, exhibiting only slightly tone of amusement, “Excellent, indeed.”

What have you done?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Story so Far..the prisoner is dead, but you have the coordinates to the Resistance Outpost. Your order to Atria is still ringing in your head and while fighting off urges to call it off, you're met with Kylo Ren—the last man on earth you wanted to see. He brings a direct order from Starkiller. Supreme Leader Snoke would like to speak with you.
> 
> Both of you.

“Kellarov.”

You snapped from your trance. Visions of the holoforms of your parents mixed with the lifeless face of the Resistance Pilot turned to the dark inside of Kylo Ren's command shuttle. You had been bumping around, staring blankly at the reflective tile of the shuttle floor, waiting to land. Any pain you had left from the crash was minimal; a few cuts scabbed over, bruises turned pale blue on your skin. Still, you turned your hands over each other, tounging the cut on your lip that was still closing. Your meditative thoughts were disrupted by Ren's voice, his cool and collected voice, humming through the respirator. When he woke you, you realized the humming of flight had stopped.

“We've arrived,” he says rising to his feet.

When the doors to the shuttle opened, General Hux was standing at attention, flanked by Lieutenant Mitaka and Captain Phasma with a small escort of storm troopers, “Lady Kellarov,” he said with confidence, “Allow me to be the first to welcome you to Starkiller Base: the First Order's primary base of operation.”

You said nothing in reply, but placed your delicate hand in his glove and allowed him to escort you down the ramp into the frigid hangar.

Starkiller Base was your parents' investment dream come true. It had taken years to build—a superweapon comparable only to function of the Empire's Death Star; they said the blast could pierce hyperspace. You didn't remember it being so frigid, and when you reached the open hangar your reminder was quite swift.

The bare arm of your dress was doing a poor job at keeping you warm, and even the arm wrapped in soft fabric of a sleeve wasn't helping either. When you stepped down, your leg exposing itself in the slit, you felt this was not the dress you needed to wear—unfortunately, it was the only one you had access to. Against your own decisions, you spent the night following the interrogation on the Finalizer—in quarters assigned by Commander Ren himself. It was mandated he keep a room for the royal family aboard the Finalizer, and in it, all manners of clothing except those for cold weather, even the winters on Kellarov Prime were warm in comparison. At least you had your favorite tiara; embedded with cut kyber crystals that pulsed in your presence.

“Thank you, general,” you murmured, a chill tickling your exposed skin.

Before you caught Ren in your glance stepping forward, Hux's greatcoat was lifted off of his shoulders against his will. In a whirlwind of black, the coat settled around your own shoulders.

Ren brushed his hands over the broad shoulders of the coat, securing it around you. It was heavy, but warm, rivaling the heat that welled up in your chest from the feel of his hands on you.

“How kind of you, general,” Ren muttered, pausing as he passed General Hux, “to offer the princess your coat.”

You held the coat around you from the inside, watching Ren as he led the escort. The storm troopers followed him and after nodding to Hux, you followed the commander into the base.

The inside of the base was just as cold as the outside, only the warmth of bodies in the hall contributed to your comfort. You felt warm enough nestled in between the marching escort, blasters against their chests, they surrounded you on all sides. Leading the charge was still Ren, his back to you, clearing the path to the congressional chamber. You kept your eyes on him, on his broad shoulders, cowl shifting against the muscles in his back. He hadn't said a word to you during your trip, yet to sense the cold seeping into you and present you with a coat. It was almost compassionate; a motion you never expected from Ren, but you didn't feel the need to reject it, and that alone startled even you.

Reaching the holo-chamber, the escort stopped, the troopers clicking their heels in unison. You took a moment to pull Hux's greatcoat off of you, revealing your sultry form and returning it to him. The chains of gold that strapped across your chest and neck, jingling quietly as you thanked him.

Ren turned over his shoulder to you, his mask barely peeking out of his hood. He didn't say anything, the silent communication between you doing all the work. You stepped forward to the massive blast door, standing beside him as it hissed open.

Side-by-side, you walked down the dimly lit pathway to the cavernous congressional chamber. The dais in the center of the room was haloed by a soft light that came in through the ceiling. The back of the chamber was rock, supported by angled beams that centered around the empty space where the Supreme Leader was to appear.

You stole glances at Ren through your peripherals. Still, the thought of him forcing Hux's coat on you kept your brain busy. You couldn't consider he did it to be kind. There must be something he wanted, and because of this, you kept your guard up. He kept his mask forward, towards the place where the light stopped and your eyes met his point of focus until you reached the assembly platform.

Reaching the platform before the massive dais, Ren stopped, and you settled in beside him. Your long dark hair fell to one side, shielding your profile from him, falling straight down to your chest, and tickling your cold skin.

The room was so quiet, that when Ren breathed in, it echoed into the darkness, disturbing the particles of dust that wafted to the floor. His words seemed hesitant, harboring the anxiety you've felt yourself since speaking with the Queen, “Supreme Leader Snoke.” he said.

He appeared. A massive holoform of your Master, seated on an angular throne of black steel. His hands rested on the arm rests were wrinkled, flesh as pale as death, face warped by something that terrified you too much to question. His holoform was lifelike in its terribleness, frightening to behold.

“You arrive,” he said slowly, “my apprentices.”

His words chilled you. Hearing that voice for ten years against the inside of your forehead was surreal enough. But, to come face to face with him terrified and humbled you, even if it was only a projection.

“Kylo Ren.” Snoke began.

Ren shifted in place, his hands closing around his gloves rather calmly, “Supreme Leader.”

“Have you forgotten what it is I have asked of you?”

In respect of the tension that was beginning to spread, you lowered your eyes, keeping your chin turned up towards your master. It was here where you picked up on Ren's nerve tremors; they were similar to your own.

“No, master,” Ren replied.

“Are you sure of this?”

Silence.

Snoke turned his disfigured countenance to look at you, “Vatari—come forward.”

Raising your eyes to his holoform, you obeyed. You took one step, the soft click echoing against the sight of your master, the image of Kylo Ren moving further behind where the sides of your eyes could see. Closing your fist and pressing it to your chest you bowed forward only slightly, “Yes, master,”

“Tell me of this outpost,”

Bringing your eyes back to Snoke, you let your arm fall to your side. You considered stealing another glance at Ren, who was trying his hardest to not watch you, but you stopped yourself. You parted your lips to speak, “There were rumors, master, of a Resistance outpost within the Kellarov System,” you said flatly. You've said this all before, but Snoke—he was listening. “They've come for reconnaissance on Starkiller Base,” you paused, letting the information settle.

Snoke shifted on his throne.

“General Locke received a stray transmission and traced it back to a Resistance transporter en route from this outpost. The transporter was destroyed and one hostage was secured, interrogated and executed; not before surrendering the location of this outpost to me. We anticipate the summoning of the war council,” you continued, “and your council, master.”

Your master spoke slowly after a solid moment of quiet. “You have done all of this?”

Tingling in your fingers forced you to close your fist, “Yes, master,”

Snoke turned his only visible eye to your counterpart, “What is it you have done—Kylo Ren? In the name of the First Order?”

“Only what you've asked of me, Supreme Leader” Ren's words were quivering through his respirator. “You know my purpose is only to serve you,”

The Force from him pressed against your bare shoulder, desperate for something to hold onto. You've been in this moment before—a remix of the previous day—when you stood weak before your own form of ultimate authority. Validation was slipping from his grasp and into yours and for the first time in a long time, you felt powerful.

The Supreme leader sat back in his seat, a crooked grin pulling at his tormented flesh, “The Force is strong in you, Vatari Kellarov,” he said deflecting Ren's plea and turning his attention to you, “There is great power for you to wield; it has begun to show.”

You felt his gaze; although not concrete, it weighed you down. In your mind, you were forced to see Atria's face in the dim light of the Finalizer hallways, clutching your orders in her fist. You were forced to see your own tear-stained face through Snoke's watchful presence.

He knew.

“Your training is nearly complete,”

His words filled you with a storm of pride and fear and you swallowed the lump in your throat, “I understand, master,” you replied, “Your guidance will bring my power to its peak. Your faith will make me

stronger.”

Kylo stepped forward, turning his shoulder to pass you, making his presence known a half a pace in front of you. His frustration made itself known in the tingling that you felt trickle from his words, “Supreme Leader, I--”

“You, Ren,” continued Snoke without hesitation, his voice booming effortlessly over the commander's “Have much to learn.”

The silence that followed was ear-shattering. The ringing in the air threatened to lift the hair from your neck, and encouraged the ruins of Ren's cowl to curl upwards. Tension kept you pinned to your spots, awaiting whatever words Snoke was going to say. 

“Only from you, Supreme Leader,” Ren stammered, “I--”

“Who is it,” Snoke asked slowly, angrily, “Who is it we fight for control of this galaxy? Who is it we strive to crush into dust? Who is our enemy?”

Ren rolled his shoulders back, adjusting himself, desperate to remain calm, stoic and strong. You resisted urges to look at him the Force visible round where his ears would be, shifting his cowl at the back of his neck. It was tense, hard and present. “The Resistance,” he grumbled finally.

“Look at her,”

The commander turned his head to you, slowly, the light from the ceiling reflecting against the steel of his mask. You didn't return his gaze, just feel his eyes, wherever they were, caress your cheeks.

He stared, waiting for your master's words.

“Is she your enemy?”

Ice settled in your chest cavity and you were forced to lower your head in an attempt to regain your composure. Silence rang on the end of his question, and the anticipation for his answer made you shake in your stance. The longer he stared, the longer and slower your beating heart pumped in your chest. 

“No.”

His answer, as the truth, did not catch you off guard. Or maybe it did. Years of feeling you were enemies melt away with a single word; No. You raised your chin again, letting your hair fall back and revealing your cheek to him.

“Remember that.”

Ren was struck silent, before he could raise his voice in protest, turning his head back to Snoke's holoform, your master continued, “Summon the War Council to Kellarov Prime. See to it this reconnaissance is destroyed.”

“Yes, master,” you and Ren spoke in unison.

“Vatari,”

Your heart launched itself upwards and lodged itself in your throat. Finally, you're able to meet his eyes—glistening in the holoform, “Master,”

“The resources of the First Order militia will be placed in your..capable hands.” From beside you, you felt Ren cringe, anger beginning to swell around him, forcing him to control his breathing, lest his rage seethe to a boiling point before your master.

“Bring down the outpost,” Snoke growled, leaning forward. He clenched his mangled fist and his lips curls into a snarl, “Burn the Resistance to the ground.”

Again, you spoke simultaneously, but this time Ren is quieter: “Yes, Supreme Leader.”

In an instant, he disappeared, the dust he was projected onto continuing its soft descent to the dais.

There was a long silence, the ends of his command echoing to silence.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Supreme Leader Snoke has granted you his blessing over Kylo Ren to lead the assault on the Resistance Outpost. Needless to say, Ren is not happy. But there is something else brewing; something Ren has yet to tell you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is LONG. A ALOT of important things happening, and I'm relieved and hopeful that I have said everything that needsto be said the way I hoped it would (does that make sense? No? Okay.)

You stood there in silence, Kylo Ren by your side. Like a dark and lonely wedding, you stood  before the dais where Supreme Leader Snoke once sat projected before you, unable to break the

deafening silence with anything more than a shaking breath.

Supreme Leader Snoke had given you his blessing.

Over General Hux, over Locke, over Kylo Ren himself, he entrusted you with any asset the First  Order offered to destroy this stain on your home. The thought filled you with a trembling that  shook you so gently, so definitely, that it was a long time before you realized you hadn't moved.

Still standing there, your mind immediately went to the distribution of the assets put in your  control. To rush the outpost would cause them to scatter; if anything, this was the perfect  opportunity to gather intelligence on the Resistance. The more you contemplated your next course  of action, the quicker the chill that had gripped you dissipated. It melted with the confidence that  the Supreme Leader had instilled in you and the fire of true power. You were in control, and it felt  good.

Ren, however was quiet. Dangerously so. In fact, when the silence settled it was a long time  before you saw any sign he was even still breathing.

“Ren,” there was accidental concern in your voice, but it came with your evaporating sense of  failure. Your weakness was washing away to strength and you admit, you came off soft.

He inhaled, oxygen hissing into his respirator before snapping his mask to look at your face.

You held his gaze for a long time, tendrils of the Force unwillingly flowing from you and  touching his mask. Resignation began to pulse from him, a surrender to the instances of your  invisible touch. Suddenly, you saw the weakness in him, but it wasn't quite right.

His words were getting lost in his throat, you felt the way he's trembling against your presence in the  cold and empty congressional chamber with only his emotions vibrating in the air around you. He  achieved as sense of calm in your countenance, keeping his mask centered on you. He found his  voice, in the one word he can manage without stuttering:

“Kellarov,”

Your eyes remained fixed on him as he turned sharply on his heels, marching towards the door. His  footfalls were heavy, scuffing against the reflective floor as you pulled your skirts away from your

feet, following him at a distance.

When the blast door opened, Lieutenant Mitaka appeared, immediately moving towards you and  presenting you with a black coat, “My lady,” he said with a bow.

You lowered yourself and he draped the coat around you and when you stood, you turn your  attention to General Hux. Your own general, Locke, stood behind him. His brow was hard, even  when he saw you. He straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath. Paranoia urged you to  believe that he too, knew of what you've done. Atria was still gone. He looked concerned.

“What are the Supreme Leader's orders?” Hux looks between you and Ren, both of you unable to  make eye contact with him. Neither of you spoke right away, and it was some time before you  remembered he spoke.

“The supreme leader has placed all assets of the First Order assigned to the destruction of the  outpost on me,” you said flatly not breaking Locke's stare. You felt Ren shift uncomfortably  beside you without touching him.

General Hux looked between you a second time, seemingly shocked, but quiet. “Understood,”  Hux turned down to his datapad and in a few seconds, he recorded this order into his device.

“Commander Kellarov--” he stated raising his eyes back to you, “--your orders, then?”

A chill gripped your chest, running tingles through your heart. You trembled in place and you  pushed your jaw forward raising your chin, “Call the War Council to Kellarov Prime  immediately,” you turned to Hux, “Summon your fastest shuttle to depart as soon as possible.”

General Hux nodded in Mitaka's direction. Within seconds, the data pad chimed and he tucked it  against his chest, “The shuttle will arrive when it is ready.”

Ren took this as his opportunity to leave. From the wings, Captain Phasma made an appearance,  coming close to Ren, muttering under her breath to him. You couldn't hear anything she said, but  Ren nodded.

He brushed by you and you stumbled slightly in reply. Watching his massive form move down the  hallway, you kept your eyes on him, until the buzzing in your ears stopped. You turned your  attention back to Locke,  “General, I request an audience with the king and queen,” you said following a deep breath,  “They must be made aware of the orders issued by the Supreme Leader.”

“Of course, commander,” Locke replied with a nod. “Your quarters are this way,”

He led the way off down the hall in the direction of Ren. Ahead of you both, you felt his  footsteps, disturbing the quiet of the deserted hallway. Each footstep of his felt heavy to you as  they shuffled off to silence as he disappeared.

You followed General Locke down several halls, past one blast door, then two, then three to a  familiar door. With a gloved hand, your general opened the keypad and slowly entered the code.  The door beeped and hissed open, revealing a musty, unused bedroom, Locke stepped aside, but  before you could walk inside, he summoned your attention with his eyes.

“My lady,” he said quietly.

You paused, looking up at his tired, weathered face.

_ It's Locke. From your crumpled body on the floor, you heard his footsteps approach you. The  training room was empty. It was just you—just you and your sore muscles, bleeding from cuts that  your master inflicted during your training. Slashes of blood across your forearms, shoulders and  thighs shot pain to every corner of your body. You had been defeated. _

“General,”

_ You struggled to push yourself to your feet, sliding your forearms under your head to push  yourself up, but you collapsed again, hitting your face hard on the mat. You tried a second time,  elbows trembling as you struggle to hold yourself up, even inches from the ground. You were far  from your feet to properly salute him, but when he stopped before you, he didn't salute you. He  just stood there, frowning. “Wh..where are they?” _

_ “The King and Queen have taken their supper,” he said gently. “They asked I assure them you  are still training.” _

_ Finally you had the strength. Pulling your practice stick to you, you gripped it tightly in your fist  _ _ and pressing it into the mat, you made it to your knees, “Understood.” you whispered. _

_ “My lady..” Locke murmured again. _

_ Leaning with your entire body on the practice stick, you steadied yourself, “General Locke,” you  replied, shaking against whatever grip you had left to keep yourself on your feet. You snapped  _ _ your legs together, fresh blood oozing from your wounds. He frowned-- _

_ “Are you alright?” He must have asked that question for years. Every time he sensed distress in  you, for over two decades. _

“Yes,” you whispered. And you were sure of it.

Locke lowered his head and bowed, offering you passage into your quarters.

You entered your sanctioned quarters, the dreary dark princess canopy, the source of the dust that  sailed around the room. There was a simple dresser across the room from the bed, a mirror placed

on the wall above it, and a vanity near the door to the refresher.  The door slid shut and you placed the holoform projector on the end of the bed, taking your  position off the end of the bed in front of the dresser. It beeped and cast its blue light across the

floor creating the boundary. You stepped inside, drawing your shoulders back. Confidence, you  told yourself,

“Father...mother,”

The holocom flickered to life, as usual. Standing there, as regal and emotionless as her wedding  portrait dressed head to toe in battle garb was your mother. When she saw you, she tilted her chin  up, her lose ringlets of silvering black hair cascading further down her back. Tiberius was  nowhere to be found.

“Speak,” Sera snapped, her voice already heavy with discontent, “and make it quick.”

“Where's my father?”

“Uninterested, now speak.”

Breathing deeply through your nose, you soothed the ache in your chest with oxygen. It was just  you and her, the woman who made your life miserable, left to inform her of the reward of your  valiant efforts. Uninterested, you thought to yourself, we shall see about that. You spoke loudly  the words you've practiced in your head on your walk to your chambers, “Commander Ren and I  met with the Supreme Leader this afternoon,” you began.

“And?”

“The Supreme leader,” your words were faint. You tried again, “The Supreme Leader has placed  me in charge,”

Sera scoffed and it shot through your heart like the cut of a saber, “In charge of what?”

Just tell her, idiot, you scolded yourself, “All resources of the First Order in pursuance of the  Resistance outpost,” you stated, “I am in charge,”

“Have you found this outpost?” the queen asked with a singular arched eyebrow.

“It lies in the center of the Rima Forest on Etisin II.”

Sera fell silent, turning her nose up at you. The holocom flickered. “So what are you doing  wasting our time telling us and not doing as the Supreme Leader has asked of you?”

“Commander Ren and I are awaiting a shuttle as we speak,” you replied, “I have done everything  and more for you and father and for our system,”

“Ha!” your mother's laugh was far from genuine and sickening to your stomach, “A feat you have  certainly taken decades to even come close to,” She folded her arms across her chest, “You have  yet to impress me and you are wasting my time.”

“Whether or not you appreciate what I have done,” you began to raise your voice. “I have done  what Commander Ren could not,” you continued, anger boiling in your chest. It welled as sure in  you as your mother's distaste rang true in your ears, “I pursued the transporter, I shot it down, I  retrieved the prisoner and pulled the location from between his very ears. I killed him for the war  crimes he had committed in this sector—this star system our—star system. I have done this.”

Sera remained quiet.

“And your precious Kylo Ren,” you continued, grateful for your mothers silence “the very man  you trust and favor over your own flesh and blood. He has done nothing but terrorize me,” you  hissed, “The First Order was to protect us, to allow us to rise from the ashes of our defeat, but you  have not seen this through my eyes,”

You felt your breathing shake as you inhale, but your words had yet to fail you, “From the very  moment he stepped foot into the palace mere days ago, he has shown me nothing but disrespect,”  you snarled, “He tried to take my life.”

Sera began to speak, but you weren't finished yet--

“I am your daughter, whether you like it or not, and the fact you stand idle while I am bloodied,  beaten and shamed is sickeningly cruel. For me, your only daughter, to have won the recognition  and trust of Supreme Leader Snoke, over your supposed master commander, Kylo Ren, is an  astounding feat,” you paused to catch your breath, “A feat worthy of some praise, I'm sure.”

“All of this,” Sera said slowly, “but one thing you have yet to do. ”

The cavity her words bore into you grew wider, swallowing any hope left in your heart and  crushing it. She was right. That one thing—the only thing she wanted; the thing that seemed  impossible now. You knew this to be true: nothing you could say or do in the name of your  mother's family could appease her. Not if it neglected what she wanted. “No, mother,” you said  quietly.

“Then you will receive no praise from me.”

You lowered your head, any confidence you had was dashed by her words, emotion crashing and  shattering in your chest like fragile, priceless glass.

The holocom flickered out and died, humming down to silence as you process Sera's hurtful  words. They pushed you back against the dresser, forcing you to brace yourself, hands behind you  on the icy set of drawers. The entire base was so damn cold, and it had finally crept its way into  your heart.

You stood there for a long time before the pain was just too much. You walked to the bed and sat  down, letting the chill of the comforter seep up through your dress. Soon, you were on your back,  forcing yourself to breathe deeply through your nostrils.

Finally, when you were calm enough, your eyes lulled shut, your entire body surrendering to the  comfort of a bed that's never been used.

But your comfort did not last long.

First, you felt it, a heavy pressure in the right side of your brain that shifted to the front as your  mind narrowed in on the source. Then, you heard it, the rumbling of the Force. It was faint,  coming from several rooms over and accompanying the proximity of the pressure you had felt. An  ache similar to your own doubled up on your heart and rooted the agony deeper.

Shared pain—from somewhere else.

You sat up.

Just as you brought your eyes to the blast door, it slid open.

“My lady,” Locke stood in the threshold of the open door, letting the light from the hallway fill  what it could of the darkened room. “The shuttle has arrived,”

You turned to face him, eyes red, adjusting your tiara on your head, “Where is Commander Ren?”  you didn't remember wanting to know, but the void in your chest begged for the answer.

“I believe he is in his quarters, my lady,” Locke replied, “I offered to escort you to the hangar  myself for departure,”

The urge to run dissipated and the humming in your head immediately ceased. It settled in the  bottom of your chest, and you turned your head away from him, pulling your hair over one  shoulder “I have no issue seeing myself to the hangar,” you assured him, rising to your feet.  “Thank you, general.”

You brushed by him and began your trek down the hallway, shoes clicking gently on the tile.  Your steps echoed through the hallway, disappearing as you rounded the corner, your mind  swimming with your mother's heavy words. Hallways blurred together as you walked, letting the  peace of solitude sink down into your heart.

Your comlink beeped rapidly and you stop, pulling it out of your belt. Looking down at the single  screen, you identified the caller. Atria. You pushed the button and pulsing blue soundwaves  appeared over the holoprojector.

“ _Commander_ ,” your lieutenant's voice was shaking through the static of the communicator,  “ _We're in position. Awaiting your order_.”

Checking the hall, you assured it was empty before curling over the comlink speaker. You took a  breath to speak—

“..-the map..” a voice grumbled.

You stopped. The voice was coming from across the dimly lit hall; you barely heard it on the last  few syllables as it made its way to your ears. The map? The voice was without a doubt Kylo's—  you heard the hissing of the respirator and felt the rumbling of his deep voice through the wall.

The blast door told you you're in the Starkiller's cell block, far from the hangar, but one of the  doors was sealed shut, a red light rimming the doorway.

“ _Commander_?”

Shrill screams from a second voice told you an interrogation was happening. One you had no  knowledge of--one that was going in favor of Kylo Ren.

“Standby, lieutenant,” you whispered.

“Understood.”

You tucked the comlink back inside of your dress, and approached the door with the intent to  listen.

Heavy footsteps on the other side of the door moved in a circular fashion, around the restraint you  imagined to be in the center of the room. The man's screams subsided to whimpers, and when the  footsteps stopped, Kylo spoke again.

“Where is the map,” there was a trembling in his voice, “I won't ask you again.”

You came closer to the sound of his growling, not realizing you had stopped until your hand was  pressed against the cold metal blast door. The heat from the inside of the room was vibrating  against your palm; the Force tearing through the air particles in the room. You felt him fuming; the  Supreme Leader's words ringing inside of his head.

“The Resistance will not be intimidated,”

_ You have much to learn. _

“Is that so?”

The man's scream startled you back a step, but you stayed close to the door, pulling your lips into  a thin line. You returned to your post as close to the door as your body allowed. This time, you  pressed your forehead against the cold metal and listened in.

Kylo's voice was soft, but audible, “I'm sure you've heard of me. My very presence is a threat you  dread more than death,”

“I'll never tell you anything,” the man choked, blood sputtering from his lips, speckling the front  of his already bloody jumpsuit, “You're a monster.”

There was a hard silence on the other side of the blast door. You caught yourself leaning closer to  the sealed door, straining your senses to hear anything at all; any sign of life. Suddenly, there was  a hissing sound, and the suction of air.  You held your breath as the sound of a heavy metal helmet is hard pressed into a stand.

His mask was off.

“Am I?” his voice was soft when it was unmodified. It was silky and easy on your ears; so much,  you found yourself pressing your entire body against the door as if to phase through it, just to hear  him speak again.

“ _Commander,_ ”

“Look at me,” he said.

You raised your eyes to the door, and took a deep breath, letting his muffled, but unrestricted  voice move around in your head. Without realizing it, you bit down on your lip, feeling a strange  sensation take root in your stomach.

“Am I monster, or man?”

Kylo Ren was a man. Anxiety gripped you by the neck on the other side of the blast door, and  you drew your hands into fists against the cold steel. Ten years you served him, without as much  as a glimpse of his countenance. To hear his voice right now was chaos in your mind and in your  heart.

“You killed my friends,” the prisoner coughed. “Y-you're a maniac,”

“Are you so sure?” Ren's voice is low, purring like a massive loth cat, as he began pacing again.  His heavy footsteps stopped close to the door, still facing the prisoner, “Would you like a closer  look? Tell me what you see,”

It felt like he was speaking directly to you, whispering those demanding words into your ear.  Through the door, his words slithered down your eardrum, pulling your chest to press harder and  closer to him. You opened your palm against the cold steel, breathing hot against the back of your  hand. You heard him shift again, and you tried to push yourself away from his presence, but your  awakened hormones kept you pinned, hanging on his every word.

“ _Commander?_ ”

The prisoner began screaming again, the Force coming alive between a gloved hand and a face  you couldn't see. His cries of pain masked your troubled breathing, keeping your presence  unknown to the commander, or was it?

“Well?”

A blob of bloody spit launches from the prisoners mouth, but it is suspended in mid air. The  prisoner's breathing began heaving anxiously, fear rising as the commander remains silent.

Suddenly, the air tightened, pulling the heavy door inwards towards the interior. You felt the steel  bend and creak under your touch as the sounds of choking harmonized with the intense humming

of the Force.

Then, it was quiet.

Ren must have entered a state of shock. The life force of the prisoner faded in almost an instant—  repeating the interrogation from earlier. His rage had murdered the prisoner. In the silence, as the  dust settled, you wracked your brain around the idea. A map. To what?

Suddenly, there was a crackling you came to know only as the product of his rage. It was the  sound of a plasma blade igniting in the darkness, then the sound of even heavier footsteps as they  circled around the corpse in the center of the room. Then, came the slicing through thick metal.  The sound of sparks, and the sounds of knuckles cracking around the wide girth of a haphazardly  assembled hilt. But it wasn't just agony, it was rage. Rage you've felt in your own lifetime; the  same rage that filled the cavity your mother ripped open with her distaste for you.

You took two stumbling steps back, opening your eyes and collecting the full view of the blast  door as he raged on. Looking, right, then left, you caught the masked gaze of two patrolling  stormtroopers who turned down the hallway, only to hear the roaring and scurry away. When you  approached the door again, you punched the key into the keypad, but it denied you. Once, twice,  and after a third time, you're stricken with slight panic.

“ _Commander, do you copy?_ ”

_Not now, Atria_. Facing the door again, you slammed your hand against it, still driven by an  unknown pull to open it. Empathy struck and overwhelmed you, manifesting in your desire to get  the door open; to see him. Balling your fists, you banged on the door, your heart driving your  hands to pound harder, to wake him from his anger. You backed away a second time, fingers  twitching, eyes flashing back and forth across the face of the door, Focus, damn you. Suddenly,  the door flew open and you staggered back, the darkness spilling out into the hallway. Deep inside  the cell, you saw him.

Kylo's entire body was heaving. Each swing he took with his saber sliced a brand new gash in the  wall, the crackling blade shrieking as it passed through weaker parts of the wall, causing pieces to  clatter to the ground. The entire room was throbbing, radiating from his massive form, the heat  rising from his shoulders made even standing in the doorway unbearable.  Behind him, the prisoner's corpse was vibrating with the trembling of the Force. His lifeless eyes,  ruptured from the inside poured blood and molten flesh down his face. As gruesome a scene as it  was, you kept your eyes focused on Ren, still unable to enter the room.

You knew this emotion. It's been driving you your entire life, but to see it manifested before your  eyes, in a monster you've always known to be brooding and so quiet; it terrified you.

Kylo Ren was raw power.

But without his helmet, he was a man. He was a man with dark, heavy locks, strong and wavy  like a Kellarov. It was tossed back and forth in his fit of rage as he alternated between howling  and destroying the back panel of the interrogation chamber. His name fizzled and died on your  lips, the pressure he was exerting killing any form of verbal communication and pinning you  where you stand.

Suddenly, he stopped. You felt his presence become aware of you, and he lowered his quivering  blade. He did not extinguish it though—not right away. He did, however, turn his downward  facing chin over his shoulder toward you. There was something in the air, and you saw it hanging  between you like a heavy fog. You saw it in the Supreme Leader's congressional chamber and in  the hangar hallway on Kellarov Prime. It was empathy—the desire to be understood. It came with  the Force, and it was reaching out to you.

“Kylo,” You've found your voice, but it was uneasy, helpless and nearly silent.

His name on your lips eased the tension that pinned you inside the door frame. You took a  relieved step forward, finally able to enter. His saber powered down, the jagged red blade  retracting back to the hilt, the last of the light cast from it disappearing, being replaced with the  dim lights that remained mixed with those that were sparking still.

You saw flesh of his cheek, pale and cold, eclipsed by the darkness, revealing only his lips to you.  They were soft, touchable, but trembling in the darkness when he pulled his lower lip in for a  syllable.

“Vatari.”

Chills surged down your spine, freezing every limb of yours in place.  You hesitated before taking another shaking step forward. Ren responded by turning his back to  you completely, bringing his eyes down to the floor, his hair settling on the back of his neck.

With a snap, his mask flew to his hand and with his back to you, he lifted it up over his head,  pulling it back down over his eyes, nose and mouth. When his handsome profile disappeared  under the helmet, you both remembered to breathe.

You had seen his face, even if it was just a sliver. Not only that..His lips spoke your name, and it  felt..good.

Ren moved like a shadow, approaching you full on, stopping inches in front of you, forcing you  to raise your chin to see him. He's been this close to you before, but the Force was pulling you  even closer this time, holding you there. Not even fear could pull you away.  Eyes pinned on where his fell under the mask, you knew he couldn't deny what you witnessed.

He would be foolish to run away from you now. “What is it?” you whispered.

Desires to touch each other bounced back and forth between you. He fought it from escaping his  mask, but you felt the throbbing between the flesh of his forehead and his mask. It was all so  confusing: the way he said your name, the way he insisted on hiding his face from you, still. He  couldn't deny the level that which you were meeting: Snoke's reprimand and your mothers  distaste.

He could not deny he felt the same pain.

But Ren resisted, pushing past you, nearly tipping you off balance. You don't turn right away, but  vomit in the form of words made their way into your throat as you turn up to face him, “You  cannot hide from me,” you breathed, tears filling your eyes.

He stopped in his tracks.

“I know the Supreme Leader's words pain and ail you. As my mother's consume and haunt me.”

Kylo rolled his shoulders, still unable to turn and face you.

“We can prove them wrong,” a tear freed itself from your eyes, streaking down your numb  cheeks, pooling under your chin and threatening to fall, “You and I—together.”

“I know what you're trying to do.” he growled, turning his chin over his shoulder, “I will not be  fooled by this act you call sympathy.”

“This is no act,” you insisted, keeping your eyes squared on him, “You have to trust me,”

“Never,” he snarled, “I do not trust you. Not as long as there is authority over yours that holds my  respect.”

Lips trembling, you clamped down on them with your teeth.

“I would rather see you dead.”

With that, he left, his tarnished cloak fluttering behind him.

There was a long silence. One that made you truly feel alone, beyond the deserted Starkiller  hallway. You shut your eyes, letting the tears that formed in your eyes fall freely down your  cheeks. Your master would be disappointed in you, but the emotions were too raw.

“ _Commander?_ ” Atria was still on the line, “ _Commander, come in_ ”

With shaking hands, you unlatched the comlink from your belt and without taking your eyes off of  the hall, you spoke.

“Lieutenant Signas,” you said, struggling to maintain your composure.

“ _Yes, commander_ ,”

You swallowed hard, “Engage.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo Ren did not speak a word to you about this ‘map’. What exactly is he hiding from you? But there’s no time for that. Its time to plan the assault on Etisin II.

It felt good to be home.

It would have felt better if you had slept for more than a single hour.  Instead of feeling comfortable in your own bed, you spent the night painfully awake. As you  woke yourself and prepared for the council, images of Kylo Ren's lips stuck to the insides of your  eyelids. You forced yourself not to think about them while you dressed, pulling one arm of your  favorite dress on at a time. Ghostly touches of his mouth traveled your body in your head and  imagining what it would feel like distracted you from your routine.

Thinking about it disgusted you; the curvature of his lips, the sight of your name on them. It was  revolting even to imagine what his mouth would feel like on you. One touch of his hands was  enough send shocks of anxiety coursing through you, and to grab your wrist was as if to touch  your naked body. To imagine what his lips might do to you was too dangerous to consider; even  for a moment. In that instance of quiet, when you saw for yourself just how soft the commander  was under his mask, he reminded you just who he was.

He reminded you he was human and that you had desired him all of your life.

Pulling your long black hair up into a ponytail, it freed you from the temptation to tug on it. To  have your hair up meant you were there to focus, not lure Ren into a trance deep enough for him  to desire you. Pushing those thoughts from your head, you lifted your tiara up onto your head, the  kyber crystals embedded in the gold arch pulsing to the beat of your nervous heart. You took one  last look in the mirror, rolling your shoulders back and puffing out your chest.

Today would be the day, you were sure of it. After all, you weren't too sure how much longer you  could hold out.

“Princess,” it was the soft voice of an attendant—not someone under your military command, just  a girl. She stepped into your quarters from behind the thin veil of your sitting room, dipping  deeply in a curtsy, “Shall I call for your escort?”

Your mother was right about you, though; you had failed her. And Kylo Ren did not waste a  single minute reminding you of that failure.

“That will not be necessary,” you said reaching on the vanity for your saber. You fastened your  belt around you before approaching the veil to the den. You swayed your hips as you walked by  her, “I am perfectly capable of escorting myself,”

You, Vatari Kellarov, were everything but a princess. You were terror, and you were death. You  were the hand that crushed Resistance uprisings in every corner of the known galaxy in the name  of the First Order. You were the head and the fangs of the viper; all heads of the hydra at once.  You were the daughter of the most devastatingly evil tyrants in all the galaxy who ruled as the  rightful king and queen, but you were not a princess.

You weren't even close.

But when you looked at him, and you imagined standing beside him, you felt like it was possible.  Despite the years of being shoved down, beaten, bloodied and bruised, you knew it was possible  to rise up to claim your destiny. That principle was your entire reality. The First Order reunited  your entire family with its former glory and you saw that in Kylo Ren. A means to become a  commander, and to become the princess your mother wanted you to be. But to know he rejected  your offer of a ceasefire between you, to know he wanted to fight you to the death was like a rock  in your stomach. For the first time, you came to terms with being alone in your efforts. You knew  you had to stare him down to hold your ground, and when you reached the War Room, you still  eyed him still.

Red lights of the galactic map in the center of the room reflected down on the black glass of the  circular council table. Holoform star systems swirled idly by, projected all the way around the  room across the faces of your generals and other members of the War Council. Six tall seats  surrounded the table, the War Council muttering to their advisers that stood to the left and right of  their chairs, representatives from each planet in the Kellarov star system. 

Gathered only in times of dire need, you were sure you hadn't seen some of the members since  you were a girl. Still, the six hooded figures draped in dark robes rose to their feet as you entered,  bowing their heads as you walked by. Your slippers shuffled against the reflective floor of the  War Room as you walked, your skirts kissing your ankles.

Ren was the only one who stayed erect, still and stubborn. He watched you through the towering  members of the War Council, between the tall chairs and lowered hoods of the council. He caught your gaze across the holo form, pausing before taking his place behind a seat directly across from  you beside General Hux who was sitting in the closest seat directly across from you. His words  stay locked in him, but you can anticipate their delivery:

“Kellarov,”

Taking your place at the head of the council chamber, you slipped into the seat, pulling your  shoulders back and surveying the room before locking your eyes back on Ren, “If you cared to  show me any respect,” you snapped, “that's 'commander' to you,”

“I disagree,”

Calm, Vatari. You narrowed your eyes at him, exhaling hard through your nose, “I don't  remember asking for your opinion,” your voice seemed empty, void of anything he could latch  onto to torment you further.

Ren tilted his head, you imagined him smirking with his plump limps under his mask, “You will  be wise to take what I give you,” he mused, “You always had a tendency to be ungrateful,”  In your head, you level your anger. You're forced to, again, to remind yourself that he was doing  this on purpose. You are in control. Drawing your attention back to the center of the room, you  square your shoulders, “Where is General Locke?”

“En route, my lady,” replied one of the other lieutenants of the Royal Dark Army turning his eyes  to you. “He has told me to relay the message to begin without him.” 

You nodded to him “Understood, lieutenant.” You took a slow very deep breath, remembering the  words Snoke had told you yesterday. The Force is strong in you, Vatari Kellarov. You assured  yourself of this, feeling it pulse inside of your fingertips. It comforted you, and as you crossed one  leg over the other, scanning the faces of your war council, you settled down into your throne.

“Gentlemen and ladies of the council,” you began, meeting everyone's except Ren's despite how  he prodded you with the Force, “The sanctity of your home has been compromised sin a  Resistance act of war,” you raise your hand to the red holoform galaxy and moved it from left to  right. The Force stimulated the holoform, scrambling the stars to focus on a particular planet with  three moons all orbiting slowly and all at once. You spun the planet with a flick of your wrist,  displaying Etisin II in its entirety.

“Deep inside the Rima Forest on Etisin II there is an outpost belonging to this--” you paused,  “Resistance.” You waved your hand again and the planet grows in size, diving in and opening up  the landscape to the eyes of the council.

You watched the planet turn slowly as the holoform picked off segments of Rima, opening it to  images stored in your home planets internal database of trees, lakes, and ruins scattered by decades  of overgrowth, “They have defiled our home in the hopes of uncovering the secrets of Starkiller  Base. By the will of Supreme Leader Snoke, I have been elected to lead the extermination of this  outpost,”

An airy voice chimed in, softly, but surely, “Will we be needing resources, my lady?” The white  haired Prime Minister of Narinu raised her eyes to you, her eyes glimmering from underneath her  velvet council hood.

“Any and all assets belonging to the First Order are in our hands,” you replied, turning your head  to General Hux, you acknowledge him with a nod, “I will be working closely with the general to  lead the assault,”

“We'll organize an airstrike,” Hux said flicking a finger up on his datapad, throwing a projection  of 200 TIE fighters into the atmosphere of Etisin II. They started buzzing around the heads of the  council members, the holoform coming alive and filling the sky with fighters, “With two hundred  fighters to ambush the outpost, we'll ensure no one survives,” 

“We will burn it to the ground,” the voice across the room came from the Leader of Etisin II a  stoic, tanned man with eyes electric like beams of light.  Sitting in-between his own advisers, he pressed his lips into a thin line before  speaking again: “Leave no remains,”

“How can we be so sure an airstrike will eliminate them?” a third council member, from the Ice  planet Otrilia, questioned you sincerely.

Hux's turned to his left, “We will send an elite squadron of TIE bombers,” he said confidently,  “Force them out, then use the Interceptors to pick them off as they run,” Hux drew his attention  back to the rest of the council members, “This is simple maneuver, we won't need a single trooper  on the ground,”

“I disagree.” From across the room, you saw Ren begin to pace, red light reflecting off of the  chrome mask like stained blood. He walked around the table slowly, the stars of Etisin II's  atmosphere passing over his face and body. You kept your eye on him, your light saber vibrating  at your hip.

“That's too bad,” you interrupted Kylo, and he snapped his gaze to you, “The execution of this  maneuver does not concern you and I don't believe you were asked for your opinion,”

He chuckled; a sound and sensation in your chest that was devious, but amused. “You're sharper  when you're confident. I may come to like you after all,”

“I'm no fool, Ren,” you said with confidence, despite the words you were about to say, “You  don't like me. You never have and you never will,”

“And you're sure of this,”

You narrowed your eyes, the room suddenly opening up in your vision to include your entire  council. Kylo Ren was too busy making an effort to distract you than he was contributing to the  plan, “I am,” you said with a hard frown.

“Commander Kellarov,” the leader of Etisin II addressed you a second time, “How soon can  we anticipate this plan of attack?”

“Immediately,” you replied turning your attention to Hux, who nodded in agreement, “The First  Order will supply the fighters within hours. We can only assume the Resistance has been alerted  for their missing transporter,” you said, “We can expect a fight should they call reinforcements.”

“Or we take the ground troops,” Kylo said from the other side of the room, “Kill every last  Resistance interloper ourselves,” he looked at you, and you stared back, “There are ways to  survive airstrikes,”

“As there are ways to fight off Stormtroopers,” said the Prime Minister softly, not daring look to  Ren when she spoke. Instead, she looked at the table in front of her, eyes lowered submissively, “I  put my trust in Commander Kellarov, that an airstrike will eliminate our enemies indefinitely;  without a chance to escape,"

Her words make a hot mess of your heart, once cold and unsure, it was now beating with  confidence and pride. “Thank you, Prime Minister,” you began before turning your gaze back to  Ren, “Whether you like it or not, commander, Snoke has chosen me,”

“Against his better judgment,” he replied. He had reached the peak of the table and began walking  down the final dimly lit stretch of floor to where you were sitting. You shifted uncomfortably as  he eyed you, seemingly undressing you with his gaze. He was desperate to reach inside of your  head, but your defenses were too high to let him in.

“You dare challenge my authority before my own war council?” you snarled, anger involuntarily  rising in you.

“Naturally,” he said easily “but do go on,” 

You tried to keep yourself level, but there was no denying how much he infuriated you. Just being  in the same room as him boiled your blood. “No,” you whispered. Rising to your feet, your skirts  fall around your ankles. Tension spreads across the room and settles in-between you and the First  Order commander. “No, I won't go on. You have an issue with me, Commander Ren, I suggest  you get on with it,”

Amusement colored his voice, highlighting your challenge with his tone, “You expect me to tell  you, in front of your precious council, why I dislike you,” 

“Say it,” you snapped, balling your fists at your sides, squeezing your fingers as tight as you could  manage before releasing them, taking one step at a time down the command throne. “Or are you  afraid?”

“Of you? Never,”

“Of what I've become,” you continue, taking slow steps towards him. The War Room was silent.

The occupants are being shaken by the presence of the Force, drawing their eyes away out of  respect of your anger. It was swelling inside of you like a rising tide, channeling the pressure of  the Force through your fingers. “You cannot deny the power I have amassed. In the absence of  my family, and under the wing of the First Order I have exceeded every expectation,” you stated  walking around the circular council table, “Even yours.”

“You are worthless,” Ren argued, “I have no expectation from you, but to lay down your life in  my service out of spite,”

His word hung thick in the air, taunting you before they sank down under your skin. It was a few  seconds before you were able to focus on him again. And when you did, he was on the move.

Ren approached you slowly, one step at a time, “You realize, the only reason your parents haven't  killed you is because they put their trust in me to do so.”

Struck silent, you feel you knees begin to give away, but you force yourself to stand, staring him  down unafraid.

“For years, they've wished you dead,” Ren continued, his voice vibrating through the room  against the holoform that was still buzzing with TIEs. The red light passed over his mask, the only  movement in the entire room, “They hate you,”

“She's not good enough..”

Your throat tensed up, and you brace your knees against the back of Atria's empty chair, “You're  convinced of this,” your voice began to shake, against your will.

“They've told me themselves,”

You stared Kylo Ren down across the council table, the lights shimmering in your eyes against his  mask, before breaking his gaze, bringing your eyes to the floor.

“They think you are worthless, they think you cannot carry the crown,” Ren continued, “You've  gone above and beyond disappointing them. All this, they've told me.”

“And yet the Supreme Leader has chosen me!” you shouted, your knees trembling, forcing you to  stand straight, “Over you, his prized apprentice,” You took long strides towards him, your teeth  gritted, lips curling back in a snarl, “It's clear he recognizes my true power! Power you do not  have! Power my own parents refuse to see in me! Power you will never have over me!”

You were close now, closer than you should have been considering how angry you were.

Fighting off every urge to grab him by the cowl and maim him, “Power over you,” you lowered  your voice to a growl, “Power you have not yet come to accept.”

“Nor will I ever,” Ren snarled. The Force was heavy in the room again, swirling around you and  forcing everyone down into their seats as he drew even closer to you. He towered high above you,  forcing you to crane your neck back just to see him“As long as you parents live and breathe, you  hold no authority over me,”

Your chest went cold, and you lowered your voice to a maniacal whisper, “We shall see about  that,”

Suddenly, the door flew open. General Locke stood in the threshold, hand bracing himself against  the wall as he staggered in, huffing as he forced himself to breathe. All eyes of the War Council's  members were stuck on Locke, all but yours and Kylo Ren's. You stood staring at each other,  unfazed by the disturbance, unable to take your eyes off of each other, despite the sounds of  Locke heaving uncomfortably.

Locke stumbled to the ground, caught only by the first members to the door. They held him up to  the best of their ability as he sobbed, his words falling apart as they tumbled from his trembling lips.

You heard muttering behind you, council members urging him to speak,

“Th-the king...” he sobbed, “the king and queen are dead.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Story So Far... 
> 
> They're dead. Both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nice short chapter to segue into the climax! Enjoy!

_When the sun was just right, through aquamarine clouds, it made the water lapping against the shore sparkle like the stars that persisted through the daylight. When the fungi in the tree bark turned the trunks into a rich and lovely violet, that flaked off in lavender pieces and whistled as they flew on the breeze, that's when the spring was in full bloom._

_A young woman was sitting on the shore, navy blue skirts haloed around her waist, sat like a perfect angel with dark hair curling around her cheeks and shoulders. She was a queen, gold sparkling from accents on her sleeves and in her earrings, a tiara glittering in the late afternoon sunlight atop of her hear. She was sitting with another lighter haired woman with a blanket in her lap. The woman was knitting quietly, a soft blue blanket that was coming along, pretty slowly, but surely. Her fingers worked lazily, humming softly half to herself and half to the elegantly dressed queen sitting beside her. The dark haired woman cast her light eyes across the water, hands gently on her bulging stomach, breathing evenly and calmly._

_“How is she, your majesty?”_

_Sera drew her eyes away from the horizon and to the toddler on the shore. She took a deep breath, her angled jaw tilting up when she saw the child, “She's grown.” she replied simply._

_The child squatted down in the gently lapping water, her little skirt skimming the surface and her bare toes mingling with the cool, fresh waters of the lake. She was gurgling happily, swirling her chubby fingers in the crystal clear water. You remembered now. It was you, a budding youth, a few years old, toddling in the shallows_

_“She will be strong,” said the handmaiden sweetly, “like her mother,”_

_The Queen drew her shoulders back proudly, exhaling through her nostrils, “Tiberius wished a boy,” she said stiffly, “He has yet to see how strong she is..” she watched the back of your little head, watching the locks of your dark hair curl and bounce in your ponytail, “She will surely surpass me some day. My strong girl,”_

_“She is beautiful, your majesty,” the handmaiden mused, “She is as beautiful and as elegant as you are” she raised her head, but Sera's brow was still stern. She cleared her throat, “There is still a chance you know,” she added, “for a boy. Surely the Kellarov name will not end here.”_

_Sera frowned and placed her hand on her swelling belly, taking a moment’s pause,  “Kellarov is my name you know,” she murmured, “not the king’s,”_

_The handmaiden lowered her head, fumbling her next few stitches in embarrassment “I--I’m new, your majesty--I --I didn’t know,” she stammered._

_“I know,” Sera replied simply, “That’s why I told you,”_

_The girl stopped knitting._

_You wobbled to your feet, rubbing your chubby hands on your thighs. You teetered around to face your mother for approval. You took one step towards her, but lost your balance in the turnaround, wobbling and crashing to the ground. You hit the shoreline hard on your chest, water splashing, and your skirts flipping up to reveal your little cloth diaper._

_There was a moment of shock before your whimpering broke the peaceful afternoon._

_“Oh! Princess!” The handmaiden gasped, beginning to scramble to her feet. She tiptoed as fast as he could down the grassy hillside and splashed in the shallow water, scooping you up. Anxiously, she bounced you in her arms. “There, there!” she cooed nervously through your screams and sobs, “It's alright, it's alright, you're okay,”_

_In between her bouncing, she turned to face the Queen, hearing a muffled giggle._

_The Queen's laugh was brief, warm and even delightful. Genuine joy spread across Sera's stoic face and the giggles that spilled from her lips were foreign and terrifying to her poor handmaiden. She opened her arms to her, missing the opportunity to stifle her laughter, “Come,” she said._

_“Y-your majesty,” the handmaiden stammered, tipping your red bawling face over her shoulder, “I-I'll take care of her, It's okay,”_

_“Don't be ridiculous girl, bring me my child,” despite her tone, Sera's cheeks were still bright. She sat there, arms open, expectant of the handmaiden to hand you to her. She offered the young woman a smile._

_The handmaiden pulled a piece of her hair from her mouth before clearing her throat, remembering her etiquette “Yes, your majesty,” she rushed back and knelt before Sera, holding you out to your mother._

_“My strong girl,” Sera whispered, slipping her hands under your little arms, lifting you with ease out of the handmaiden's hold. She cradled you close, tucking a lock of your hair behind your little round ear, past your cheeks flushed from crying, “Dry your tears now,”_

_You sniffled, showing her mother your reddened palms from the stones of the shore, your eyes big and wet with tears. “Mmumm,” you whimpered._

_“I know, I know,” said your mother softly as she wiped your tears away, “But you are alive, are you not? Look, no blood,”_

_You stared at her blankly, her handmaiden watching with wide and guilty eyes for not snatching you back and mothering you like she was trained to do. Instead, she watched your mother cradle you, poking your button nose and smiling sweetly._

_“Kellarovs are stronger than tears, my girl,” Sera said brushing your dark hair from your eyes, rubbing mud from your glittering hair pin, “Stronger than the men that oppress us and stronger than the rocks and gravel that harm you,” While you sniffled, she rubbed the tiny bits of gravel that nestled in your skin, kissing your tender palms one by one. “Keep your chin up, Vatari. With your shoulders back, and eyes forward, you can conquer anything in this world,” Sera said gently, “You may cry when you are wounded now, but some day you will be stronger than I could ever hope to be. I love you, my child,”_

_You even smiled, a gurgled giggle surfacing through the grogginess of your tears._

Destiny.

When she smiled back, that moment stuck in your mind. You saw it in the head of the Resistance pilot, that shore of Narinu--where you first that word. Destiny. You didn't know what it meant, but it made sense now. In you head, you remembered the rest of that day. You remembered your father's solemn face, and the screams of your mother as she was dragged away by the New Republic, never to be the same, hands pressed against her stomach that swelled no longer.

And now she was dead. They were both dead, but you were filled with guilt instead of power. Grief in the place of control.

Still, you kept your eyes glued on Ren, a single tear dripping suddenly from your eyes and rolling down your face. Your cheek twitched, and your tear dripped to the floor, the faint sound echoing in your mind, between Ren's boots and yours.

Kylo Ren tilted his head as the council muttered in shock, covering their mouths and exchanging horrified glances. The Prime Minister of Narinu was the first to move, rising to her full height and turning her crystal clear eyes to you. She trembled as she dropped to her knees, “Your majesty,” she breathed.

You blinked, breaking Ren's stare to turn around.

Following the suit of the Prime Minister, the second was the leader of Etisin II. He stood up and squared his shoulders, pounding his chest hard with his fist, his attendants responding with additional  acknowledgments of your power. One by one, the council members paid their respects to the fallen regency, and the rise of you. Vatari, Commander of the Royal Dark Army, Queen of the Kellarov System, the last of her line.

Snapping back around, you faced Kylo Ren with newfound confidence, a wild spark in your eye that glistened mildly of mania, “Will you listen to me now, Ren?”

“No,” he replied, his smirk tangible on your cheeks from the inside of his mask, “I don't believe I will,”

He moved immediatelym turning away from you and beginning his lap around the council table, “Kellarov Royal Decree, section eight paragraph eleven,” he began, “Do you know it, Vatari?”

You met him with a glare, closing your fists at your sides, trembling slightly, “That's 'Commander' to y--”

“--do you know it?”

You fall silent.

“Section eight paragraph eleven—Should the regency be suddenly deceased,” Ren began reciting the document from memory, but in seconds, it was being projected in red letters through the holoform, “The regency will be fulfilled by a predetermined successor.Stated here:” 

Suddenly, a familiar face lit up the holoform next to a name: General Hendrick Locke.

All eyes traveled to the general, who's face was pale as the silver moon.

“That cannot be,” you breathed. How could Kylo Ren recite the Kellarov Royal Family decree? How could you forget? Oh, your mother would take the extra steps to stop you. To her dying breath she hated you—it boiled your blood.

“And as our treaty states, any altercation within the boundaries of the Kellarov System will be the business of the Kellarov Family,” he turned his to look at you, “Without a Kellarov in a seat of power, authority is relinquished back to the First Order, is it not?” Ren turned his attention to his own general, but before he could speak, you leaped into action.

“You can't do that!” you snapped, snatching your skirts up to follow him around the table. You met him a quarter of the way around, and he stopped you with his chest, whipping back around to face you.

“I didn't,” Ren replied simply, “this treaty was in place far before our spat began. Issues with our agreement should be taken up with your parents,” he tilted his head, “Hm..that is unfortunate.”

“You..!” You couldn't believe this. How could you have forgotten this? You never considered your parents going as far as this to prevent you from becoming the queen. They must have assumed you would try to kill them. Maybe they went willingly.

Ren took off again, back around the room towards General Hux, “Contact the captain, general. I want two hundred storm troopers on the ground. We ambush the outpost,” he stated, “I will lead the charge myself,”

“General Locke!” your voice cracked, turning to your late mother's advisor, who was still speechless.

“M-my lady,” he was trembling unable to gather his thoughts, still suffering the shock of loss. He was finally helped to his feet, but a shaking mess, shoving his spectacles back onto his nose, and stammering some sort of response to all of this.

You looked between him and Commander Ren, frantically, your hair twitching at its ends, the Force roaring to life inside of you, forcing the hair on your arms to stand on end, “Do something!”

“There is nothing he can do,” Ren snapped victoriously, “The Regent cannot crown a successor within three days of being instated. The assault on Etisin II begins now,” he scanned the room, meeting the eyes of every council member with his mask, “We wait any longer, the Resistance will escape,”

The War Room was silent, without movement for a long time, only the sounds of Commander Ren's respirator breaking the silence. “We depart. Now.”

“I'm going with you,” you shouted, all eyes moving to you now. Their attention felt like knives and you pulled your shoulders back.  _Eyes forward. You are stronger than the men who oppress you._ “You would not dare go,” you snarled through your teeth, “Not without me,”

Ren approached you, one slow, strong step at a time, stopping when he towered above you, “But can you keep up,” he cooed, “Sad orphaned princess,” he runs the back of one gloved finger along the contour of your jaw.

Squaring your shoulders you met his gaze, not moving, focused solely on his mask. Solely on the mask that oppressed you; the mask that drove you through your entire life—to murder your own parents, to force control of your chaotic life. You replied with a malicious grin, “You will come to wish I can't.”

“We shall see about that,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Etisin II! (Smut chapter soon, guys thanks for hanging in there)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally time--the assault on Etisin II. It's not the way you wanted it, but you weren't going to pass up the chance to serve justice. Even if it IS under the command of Kylo Ren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's an action-y chapter for you! Enjoy (we're almost done!!)

In hours, the assets were ready and all powers of command shifted in a second to Kylo Ren. Your plan for an air strike was surrendered to his audacious ground assault that genuinely worried you.

Especially since you so impulsively volunteered.

Standing inside of his command shuttle, you didn't bother holding on to anything, the Force sealing your boots to the floor with only your anger. Your wore your mother's spare black battle armor: a form fitting set of braces, plate and flexibility perfect for this assault, no matter how agitated it made you. Against your hip, your light saber bounced from the force of flight and you put your hand on it, settling it and letting it comfort you. You stole a glance at Kylo from where he sat beside you. On the bench against the angled wall of the shuttle leading to the cockpit, he was leaning forward, focused hard on the door. His massive shoulders were hunkered over, resting his elbows on his knees. He hadn't said a word since you left Kellarov Prime, perhaps he was stewing in his victory—again.

You tried not to look at him--just being near him boiled your blood--but every so often, you caught him twisting his head to look at you. His body language told you the words he wanted were on the tip of his tongue, but your nose turned high deflected any urge to grab your attention. How dare he, Kylo Ren, even try to speak to you as if he hadn't ruined your life again. Your parents were dead, General Locke had immediately succeeded you for control of your star system, and you were forced to abide by his rules-- after all that? He wouldn't dare.

The shuttle rocked and jumped as it left the rush of hyperspace. A storm trooper clicked her heels as she entered the deck. With her blaster across her chest, she nodded to Ren, ignoring you completely, “Sir, we've entered Etisin II planetary airspace, beginning descent into the Rima Forest.”

He didn't reply, just waved her off, and she was dismissed.

Silence gripped the deck a second time, but the pressure you could feel Ren exerting was more inclined to speak. He turned his head slightly, raising his shoulders up, but you kept your eyes forward. He shifted in his seat and settled back down.

“The outpost has been spotted,” the captain of the shuttle buzzed in over the intercom, “Beginning descent. Prepare the assault,”

The shuttle lurched and settled, the hissing machinery announcing your arrival of the into the treeline. Vibrations echoed up through the floor as the landing gear groaned and locked into place. Stormtroopers began filing in from both sides of the cabin, snapping to attention. You asserted your grip on your belt around the hilt of your saber as the door hissed, hydraulic beams pushing the door open and revealing to you the jungles of Etisin II.

Etisin II, for years, served your kingdom as a resource supplier. Deep within the jungles, in ruins thousands of years old, there were mines. Mines both old and new that built your mother’s kingdom—your kingdom. And Rima forest was the center of the planet, a dense, humid jungle that spanned for several hundred miles in all directions filled with mines both old and new. Around the mine mouths, the trees stretched to the sky and stood interlocked with vines that draped through the under-story, creating small gaps where the sunlight shone down through the leaves.

The stormtroopers trotted off the shuttle in two clean lines, stomping the curling green shrubbery in the clearing where the shuttle had landed. Several yards behind Commander Ren's shuttle, a First Order transporter landed in the trees. When their doors opened, Captain Phasma appeared, waving her armored hand and ushering her group from the transporter to the dense jungles beyond. In perfect time, they disappeared into the treeline, wave after wave of white being swallowed by the forest's dark facade.

Kylo Ren was the first to depart after. Rising to his feet, he refused to give you a second glance as he advanced towards the exit. His massive body rocked and lunged as he stepped off the shuttle, tattered cowl flapping against his broad back and shoulders. He must have been warm--all those layers of black—you were sure that ripping some clothing on his person was inevitable; either that or sweating like a bantha. Closing his gloved hands in his fists, he swayed his weight left, then right, turning back for you.

You followed, hopping over the threshold of the shuttle, and trotting down the black steel ramp. Your ponytail, curling gently at its end swayed as you came beside him, the insulated leather keeping the moisture of the air off of your skin. You kept your kyber crystal choker on under the tight neck of your battle armor, letting the pulsing energy keep your heart from racing.

Ren looked down at you, “This outpost,” he began, “it lies in the center of the forest, does it not?”

You took a few steps forward, scanning the treeline that grew darker as the jungle spread before you. Overhead, avian type creatures screeched and jostled the branches in the canopy. “This is your assault,” you replied bitterly, “You don't know?”

“Or do you refuse to tell me,”

You turned around, staring hard at where you always guessed his eyes would be, “I did not come along to receive your unwarranted attitude, commander.” you growled. He didn't respond, so you continued, raising your eyes to the treeline, “The outpost is to the north. We're close—about a mile,” you fell silent to listen for the clattering of stormtrooper armor.

Suddenly, there was a tickling behind your eyes, making eye contact with Ren, you stepped back quickly. A blaster shot ripped through the jungle and pierced the bark of a nearby tree behind you.

Ren reached for his light saber and you went for your own, freeing it from your belt. “Stay behind me,” Ren said to you, “We are closer than you assumed,” He turned to Phasma, who stood with her blaster ready against her chest, issuing his command, “Captain, after you,” Phasma saluted, turning to her troopers and raising two fingers to the woods.

Following suit, Phasma stepped over a log into the treeline, the sound of blasters ricocheting against the bark echoing through the trees. Before he could follow, you caught Ren by his forearm. Feeling his muscles clench under your touch, he stopped. He let you touch him, and you felt a tightening in your chest when he didn't immediately bat you away. He turned to you slowly, his massive form blocking the sunlight.

Fighting off an urge of intimacy, you lowered your eyes before meeting his mask again, “You expect me to follow you into a jungle you are unfamiliar with?”

“I expect you to stay behind me,” he said simply, his mask looking over your face, pausing maybe to admire you, “And I expect you to keep your mouth shut,”

“What is your plan then? Since you insist on rushing head on into a guaranteed counter attack,”

“Storm the outpost. Kill all Resistance scum,” He went to turn away, but you held him there.

Through his sleeve, you felt his heartbeat, it was in sync with yours, his mask still centered on you, “There is nothing else,”

“And if they flank us,” you narrowed her eyes, tightening your grip on him, “we'll have no escape. They'll corner us and slaughter us.”

“They won't,” he said gently. He seemed distracted, yet focused, as if his eyes were caressing your face and neck, “So as long as you stay with me.”

Releasing him, you watched him as he jerked his wrist, freeing the plasma blade from the hilt. The red light flickered off of his mask when he rotated his wrist, airing the blade. He lingered in your sight for a few moments longer before lumbering off into the woods. You tried to wrap your brain around the fact that you touched him again. Despite how angry you were with him, you couldn't deny the swelling your heart did when he was so close. Kylo Ren was a man. It left a lingering throbbing in your chest that made your stomach reject what little food you had eaten that morning.

Scowling, you reached back and tightened your ponytail before leaping off after him into the trees.

The jungle welcomed you into its humid embrace. Through the trees, vines that dripped down intercepted your path and Ren slashed them with ease. You kept up with him at a trot, ducking under the flurry of blaster shots that flew between the thick tree trunks, splintering the bark to your left and right. Any shots that came from head-on were deflected by the commander. He seemed to make it a point to escort you, and with each blaster bolt he deflected with his crackling saber, you grew more frustrated that you were being protected.

Soon, on either side of you, a small group of storm troopers fell into formation, creating a protective ring around you. With Kylo Ren at the head, carving a path through the thicket with his saber, and six troopers at your sides and rear, he moved you easily through the battle at a trot.

Through the trees, and around Ren's shoulders, you could see it. A structure of stone fixed with a roof of broad leaves and vines to hide it in the treeline. It was small—big enough for a computing console and a radio for transmissions. It was big enough for an outpost, but it had to be more than just that.

Ren stopped you with his arm just behind the path to the clearing. You pressed against his arm, bracing yourself, watching as the troopers rushed by you. Bursting out into the clearing, stormtroopers were advancing fast towards the entrance, instructed to clear the way, when suddenly, from the door to the outpost came a flurry of blaster shots.

He grabbed you by the neck and pushed you down into the shrubbery just in time to dodge the surprise attack. Shouts from Resistance fighters clashed with orders from Storm troopers as they returned fire. You pushed your backs against a rock, panting heavily. You turned your head to Ren but he kept his eyes forward, shifting his back against the stone. You winced, rubbing the back of your neck, but he kept his massive hand against you, ready to push you down again should the Resistance attempt a second time to riddle you with shots.

“Get your hands off of me!” you shouted, shoving his hand away.

“The entrance is ahead,” Ren said ignoring your demand.

“I know that!” you snarled through your teeth. You pulled his arm off away from you as you turned to peek over the rock. Initial frustrations of the outpost's size tickled your brain and sitting back down in the brush, you looked at him, “The building is small enough,” you said wiping the back of your hand along your hairline, “I can get in there if you cover me,”

“I will go,” Ren corrected you, “You will stay behind me,”

“This is not up for discussion.”

“You're right,” he replied, “It isn't.”

Exhaling hard through your nose, you turned your head to look at him, “Why are you protecting me all of the sudden!” you snapped, “You said you wanted me dead!” He didn't say anything, just stared back at you. With an annoyed sigh, you secured your blaster at your hip, twirling the hilt of you saber in your hand. You got to you knees, “Cover me,”

“Kellarov!”

In an instant, you took off sprinting. Blaster shots zipped by your head as you bobbed and weaved over roots and through thick patches of sharp grass. Behind you, Ren scrambled from your cover, deflecting blaster shots from hitting you as you advanced.

Pumping your arms, you darted left then right through the gently beaten jungle path towards the outpost door. From your right, a Resistance trooper pulled his trigger and you twitched, hearing the bolt leave the barrel. You leaped forward, tumbling out of the way in time for the commander to bounce it back on his blade.

As they ran beside you, the Stormtroopers opened fire into the shack, downing any Resistance troopers left behind. Ren suddenly passed you, lunging at the door and knocking it down with his massive boot. The hinges shattered and the door hit the ground with a booming thud.

The outpost was a small room, filled with the equipment you had expected; a computing station, a stool and a disc who's power cords ran from the station out the window. You scowled—not only was the station blasted to pieces, the number of Resistance fighters that had rushed from this structure was more than you assumed could fit in the room.

“Go,” he commanded. “I'll hold them off,”

“Go where?” you whipped around, panting, “This room is all there is,”

He raised his eyes to the ceiling, scanning the higher parts of the dusty outpost, before lowering his eyes to the floor. He pushed by you, extinguishing his saber and squatting down close to the floor. He dusted the dried leaves aside revealing a wooden panel sealed by a rustic lock. “I wouldn't be so sure,” he muttered.

Suddenly, pain tore through your left arm, throwing you off balance. You stumblef deeper inside the shack,dropping your hilt with a grunt. Ren whirled around, catching you as you staggered, returning to his feet. The next blaster shots that entered the shack were stopped in mid air, three bright red bolts suspended and vibrating in the doorway. He was tucking you under his arm, holding his gloved hand towards the entrance, where the Resistance fighters were outside frozen in fear. He sent the bolts flying back, piercing their helmets, killing them instantly.

You winced, peeling your gloved hand off of the blaster wound on your shoulder. The shot had tore through your battle armor, revealing a patch of once tanned skin, paled from lack of exposure. It was worn by a messy gash that blood began to ooze from. Under your skin, the Force lapped at the open air inside of your wound, desperate to accelerate the healing process.

Ren turned back to you, releasing the death grip he had asserted on your bicep to open you to him, “Kellarov,” he said cautiously.

When you covered it back up, you wiggled from the commander's grasp towards the trapdoor. “I'm fine,” you grumbled, your body fighting to rush the blood between you wound to your  
cheeks. “Open this or move. I'm going down,”

He snatched you by your good arm, turning you around to face him, “A wounded fighting arm without a clue how many more men there are under there,” he said darkly, “How like you to insist on this,”

“Why do you care?” you snarled, taking your arm back from him, “The rest of the outpost is clearly on the other side of this trap door, if I don't go down and clear it out, we run the risk of survivors,”

“Vatari Kellarov,” Ren mused, “last of her line, first to put her life in danger,”

“Shut up,” You shoved by him with a scoff, reaching for your blaster. With your good arm, you pointed the pistol at the ground, blowing the rickety iron lock from the trapdoor. The blaster ricocheted at a low angle and it echoed through the hollow floor below. “You said so yourself all I'm good for is serving you out of spite,” you said squatting down to lift the door. “Let me do this,”

You hoisted the door up, kicking it over its zenith and letting it crash back into the open position. It revealed a steep set of stairs that descended into darkness; a hole lined by stone, illuminated with lanterns hanging from the ceiling. There was a clattering in the darkness, shouting. Two well-aimed shots straight down eliminated the threat.

“Stay up here,” you peered down the hole, closing your hand around your gloves, “Clear the jungle and watch the entrance. I don't come back in ten,”  You looked at him for a moment before turning away again, “Get the hell out of here,”

“Kellarov,”

You felt his presence behind you, and the shift in the atmosphere. You fought the urge to turn around again, but before he could reach up, you trotted down the stone steps. When you reached the bottom of the staircase, the sounds from the outside became muffled. Silence gripped the underground outpost and you finally had time to catch your breath. Your panting echoed down the empty hallway, bouncing freely off of the wooden walls, the halls and floor bloodied with  
bodies of the Resistance troopers you shot from the trap door entrance. With a creaking groan, the trapdoor swung back down, the booming thud echoed endlessly down the hallway. You looked up to where the door slammed shut before looking back down the hallway into the dimly lit hallway.

You were truly alone in here.

Once calmed, you pulled yourself up straight, looking left and right. You walked slowly down the hallway, one step at a time, blaster at the ready. It didn't take you long to realize the outpost was empty, that maybe they expected you. Maybe most of them fled and the resistance you met coming in was the last of the troops. With the exception of the two Resistance technicians dead at the bottom of the staircase, the outpost was barren, only the muffled sound of blasters coming from the surface were to be heard.

Part of you wanted to turn back; tell Kylo Ren the outpost was empty, but there was much the Resistance seemed to have left behind. Pieces of datapads, burned drives—they must have known you were coming. _There has to be something..._ Stepping over piles of molten tech and debris, you moved deeper into the outpost. _Anything to justify this mess._ You pushed the doors open one by one, all opening to empty rooms; makeshift beds, tables with broken computing stations. Nothing, again and again, nothing. Behind every single door, there wasn't anything. “Nothing...” you growled, “all of this...and nothing..ahh..” your arm began to throb again and you leaned against the stone wall, hanging your head and sucking air through  
your teeth. Still bleeding, your wound was far from closing, maybe the adrenaline finally caught up to you; maybe you remembered you were injured.

In times of pain, you thought of your mother; you couldn't help it. You thought of her stern and stoic face; the very image of disgust and of power. It strengthened you and reminded you of what you were supposed to be. You remembered the old days though--sitting on your her knee, you used to listen to the stories of old. You remembered how you couldn't be in a room without a man or woman in a white robe of peace, watching your every move. You remembered how your mother would lean in to you when the story got intense, her eyes lighting up with excitement. You remembered days like that beside days when your mother was dragged off into the medbay screaming by those figures in white, her hand over her swelling stomach. You remembered she  
was never the same after that.

Finally, you reached the last door. The farthest door down the scarcely lit hallway was cracked open. When you reached it, you slowed down; there was another heartbeat in the room. You put your hand on your light saber, crouching slightly as you approached the final door.

A hushed voice was shaking as it replayed the message into what sounded like a holocom. You smelled their fear, thick in the air as they repeated themselves, “...I repeat, this is Artha, the mission has been compromised! I'm accessing the database now—I'm sending you the map—”

You froze.

“--I repeat, I found the map!”

You didn't wait. Drawing your foot back, you thrust it out from your thigh, driving your boot through the heavy wood. The door hit the ground with a bang and you clenched your light saber inyou hand.

The trembling Resistance technician was leaning over a desk when she was made aware of your presence. She gasped shrilly, and before she could turn towards you, she drew her blaster. Instead of pointing it at you, she aimed it at the desk in front of her and blasted the station she was working at.

Sparks flew out from the station and you reached forward, grabbing her by the collar and whipping her around. Before she could pull the trigger a second time, you knock her blaster from her hand with your elbow. With a grunt, you sent your closed fist flying across her face as the holocom on the desk fizzled back to life. Over and over as you knocked her around with your fist, you heard the voice call for her.

When she was bleeding, whimpering and sobbing, you whirled her around and threw her against the wall, “Where's the map?” you snarled through your teeth.

“Wh-what?”

“The map—where is it?” Squeezing the technician by the collar, you awaited your response, but suddenly, the woman bit down and began to gurgle. You gasped sharply, releasing her body when she started convulsing, white foam pouring from her lips, her skin flushing, veins throbbing against her cranium. “Damn it!” you snarled grimacing as the poison drained the life from her body. You dropped her, turning instead to the console.

She had done a great deal of damage to the machine, you feared there wasn't much you could do. Still, you leaned over the console, holding your palm to the sizzling machine. The Force vibrated between your fingers, but it couldn't bring the broken wires and blasted mainframe back together. You cursed, but you weren't planning on giving up so easily. You turned around quickly, scanning the room with the Force, digging through the piles of debris until you found it—a data drive-- in near pristine condition..almost. You dove for it, scrambling back to your feet with it tight in your fist. You shoved the drive into the computing station, the screen flickering on. Pushing a lock of loose hair back into your ponytail, you started typing— clicking frantically.

The screen lit up and line after line of basic runs before your eyes. Bars move across the screen, moving data to the barely functioning drive. The same word came up over and over again 'coordinates', 'coordinates'. Coordinates? There's no map?

Suddenly, the computing machine died in a small explosion, igniting from a spark that erupted before your eyes. Before it could melt the data drive, you yanked it out. The data transfer was incomplete—repairs were needed, but you must have had something. You stared at the console for a while while it smoked, finally given some time to catch your breath. You put your hand up into your hair and sighed, attempting desperately to reassure yourself of the task at hand.

If what she said was true..the map was in your hands..almost. It was coordinates—to the last known location of the last piece. It was all Kylo Ren wanted—the thing he kept from you for whatever reason. If only you could see the look on his face under that stupid mask when you tell him. There was still hope for you...maybe. If only Sera could see you now.

A sudden rumbling in the distance broke your concentration. Shouting could be heard through the stone ceiling before the ground rumbled a second time. Closing your hand around the data drive, you braced yourself against the desk in time for the ground to rumble again. You drew your eyes up slowly, to the ceiling, dust raining from above. You cursed under your breath.

It was the Resistance—and it was an airstrike.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The damned outpost was empty, but you had one thing--a data drive with some information--the piece to Kylo's much desired map.
> 
> But it's not the time for that. The Resistance has been alerted of your presence and an escape is in order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll notice that I've cut the smut out of this chapter. I've been on the fence about adding an additional never-before-seen part of this story but I'm not too sure how it will flow yet. And since I haven't updated in a long time, I thought I would share what WAS done.
> 
> It's short, but I hope you enjoy!

Suddenly, the ground under you lurched and you were thrown to it. The data drive flew from your hands as you hit the ground, rolling to a stop a few yards away. When the rumbling passed, you groaned, pushing yourself up to your hands. It wasn't long before the terra trembled again, booming and rattling the walls around you. You snarled, muttering angrily to yourself as you got to your feet, gripping the data drive in your fist. 

You had to get out. Now.

You scrambled over the Resistance trooper’s body, but stumbled against the threshold when the ground shook again. From above you a large piece of stone dislodged itself from the dirt and crashed to the ground at your feet. Putting your nose into your elbow, you staggered back, dirt puffing up into the musty air.

The lanterns lining the ceiling rocked back and forth each time the ground shook, dust dripping from the roof all the way down towards the exit. Whatever was going on above ground was much worse than what was transpiring below and you dreaded breaking the surface. Your mind flashed once to Ren in panic, but that was all.

Once the rumbling passed, you drew a breath, holding it as you darted down the dilapidated hallway. With your whole body, you leaped hard over the fallen debris, being knocked off balance only by another explosion that threw you into a pile of crumbled stones.

Above you, the ceiling shook, heavier rumbling loosening the debris and causing the stone slab in the ceiling to crumble. You covered your head and neck as the rocks fell, curling up and flexing your muscles to reduce the striking pain of impact. What little fell hit your body all on your right side, your fingers doing their best to shield your open wound from the falling rocks.

“Kellarov,” Ren's voice came through your holocom tucked into your breast.

"I _ know _ !" With one hand on the slanted stone slab, you pulled yourself to your feet, leaping cleanly over the slab, stumbling only in the landing.

“The shuttle is outside. Hurry,” Ren ordered, “and watch your step.”

Nestling the data drive inside of your battle armor, you used both hands to vault over another boulder that crushed the bodies of the Resistance technicians before reaching the dusty stairs. You scaled the steps in twos, throwing your entire body against the trapdoor once. The door gave way immediately, dying light flooding the tunnel where you stood.

There wasn't much of the dummy outpost left, just the dusted ground around where the mouth of the mine hole was. The entire building had been blasted away, opening your sight to the sky though the trees. Above your head, X-Wings streaked across the sunset, breaking off one at a time to drop a flurry of acid green blaster bolts into the ground. They hit the dirt in a hard line, spraying the debris up into the air. You ducked when the row reached the trap door, pulling yourself back against the hallway inside. Closing your eyes, you calmed your breathing just long enough to gather yourself.

Shoulders back, eyes forward.

Yanking yourself up out of the mine mouth, you tumbled forward and back to your feet. Ponytail whipping behind, you angled your body forward, cutting through the clearing towards the jungle. It was your only chance at cover, but the threat of X-Wings still overhead commandeered your thoughts, despite how desperately you tried to keep them straight. The last thing on your mind was Kylo Ren, or maybe it was the first.

“Kellarov!”

From the brush, you could sense the commander before you saw him. Turning your head to the thicket, you spied him. Behind you, the impact of rockets blasted the ground and gave you a much needed lift for your final launch into the woods.

You tumbled into the thicket, hitting the ground near where Ren was crouching. He moved to collect you, yanking you up from the ground and you shrieked, thrashing away from him, “Get your hands off of me!” you heaved, pulling loose hair from your mouth. “We need to move, Ren. NOW!”

“The shuttle is behind us,” Ren said grabbing your good arm and turning you back around. Above you, the X-Wings circled back around, shouts from the stormtroopers rattling your attention between them and Ren, “We make it there, we're safe—back to Starkiller. We’ll let Hux’s men clean this up,”

You flung your arm back, flinching at the sound of another distant explosion, “We go back across the clearing, we're like fish in a barrel.”

“Phasma sounded the retreat--the troopers will be the cover we need,”

Another explosion rattled the trees around you--you flinched. 

“What troopers, Ren, they’re dead! If you want to live, follow me and keep your head down,”

“You’re delusional if you think I’ll obey you,”

“This is not the time to be distrusting!” You hollered, “I’m trying to get us out alive!”

From behind you came a deafening boom that you felt before you heard, throwing your entire body forward. Ears ringing, you hit the ground rolling, crashing into the the thicket. Your back and side exploded in sharp pain that dragged several deep inches on all sides of your body. Teeth gritted, you growled through the pain as you came up to your hands, clawing your way to your knees.

Desperately, you focused on the ground, trying to stop it from spinning. You groaned, but you didn't hear it—the spots that floated across your eyes impaired your vision. 

Bringing your shaking hands to your face, you saw blood dripping thick and fresh from your digits. The pain became real and you slumped onto your elbow, clutching your wound against you as your throbbing ankle gave out from under you.

Some ways off, a crumpled black figure pulled himself from the grass. He was holding tight to his chest, trying hard to get up again. His voice was distant, echoing against parts of your brain you couldn't even feel.

_ Vatari... _

You fought the pull of unconsciousness long enough to have one fleeting memory--his profile in the darkness. Your heart burned with regret, pleading with the forces of the galaxy. “Kylo..” you panted--you collapsed to your stomach, bloodied hand reaching out to him.  _ At least save him.. _

Huffing broke your departure to darkness, your body being lifted by the waist, flipped onto you back. Trembling hands gripped you up against a stiff chest, your arm left to dangle. Kylo Ren adjusted you in his arms, tucking you as close to his chest as you would go. Suddenly, the sound came flooding back as the Force granted you the perception you so desperately desired.

He said nothing, just took off through the trees.

The world around you lurched and swayed, forcing your eyes to feel better shut. You tucked your knees as close as you could manage to your chest as Ren stumbled and tripped. Rockets hailed from the darkening sky, rattling the ground under him at their impact. Trees cracked loudly against the sunset, the massive jungle oaks teetering and falling down in his path. He dodged them as nimbly as he could, ducking down under the fallen tree and releasing you just enough to throw a splintered stump from its hold on the earth. He grunted as he forced his legs to move him forward—move you both deeper into the trees.

He was holding you so tightly, gripping you with everything he could, and when you opened your eyes, you saw him. He was so close to you-- the blurred image of his chest, the faint sensation of his cowl tickling your nose, his mask maimed with a fresh dent on his jawline.

He stumbled suddenly, and you went down with him, crashing down into the thicket. Broad leaves and vines enveloped you, hiding you from sight.

Ren's heavy pressure kept you pinned to the ground, the hissing of his respirator hovering close to your face. He grunted, scooping his hand under your back, arching you into him. “I have you,” his voice was thick, struggling to persist, “I have you..”

The humming of the X-Wings and Resistance bombers soon faded to silence; the cover of darkness hailing the Resistance airstrike over. The nocturnal jungle was coming to life and Kylo Ren's command shuttle was long gone.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long time ago across galaxies far, far away..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is!! A treat for you all, this is a never-before-seen chapter of this fic that I whipped up in the place of the hatefuck for a little more depth. There WILL be hatefucking, but this very important chapter must come first. I hope you enjoy it!

Rain fell in torrents outside the tall stained window, disappearing into the darkness. It was the same rain you had seen all day; all morning and all afternoon. You saw it with your hands pressed longingly against the palace doors and on the windows in the records room, curled up in your chair. You tapped along to the sound, contributing to its endless pattering with your stubby fingers on the window sill.

In lieu of your mother’s lullaby, you did this until you slept and now it woke you, pelting your bedroom window and streaking the stained glass.

You opened your eyes to the darkness, cheeks cupped by your locks of hair that held your cheek the way you imagined your mother would. Above your head, the spiraling canopy of black lace draped down over you, veiling you like a mourning bride, but it was not that way to you:

You were far too young.

The sound of the rain continued, smacking against the window, roaring off in the distance, swirling in your brain that turned the silence in your head to white noise. You rolled onto your back, hair opening into a halo on your pillow, hands beginning to shake under the blanket. Harder and harder it coursed against your brain and you knitted your eyebrows together.

It was happening again, the distant screeching like nails dragging across obsidian. The storm of sound swirled closer and closer, enveloping your tiny head in its whirlwind. All around you, your room shuddered, freestanding objects trembling in their place, threatening to lift from the floor. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the inevitable sweep--chanting to yourself, begging to the darkness to stop.

And suddenly, it did.

_Hello?_

A voice broke the weight of silence--soft, but everywhere at once; you felt it in your soul. Again, you opened your eyes to the darkness, to the epicenter of the swirling black veil over your bed. You swore you imagined that voice--a small cry in the darkness, but it came again:

_..Can anyone hear me?_

You sat up like lightning, dark hair fuzzed from your pillow.

The dim light of the chandelier cast soft red light into the shadows all around your empty room. There wasn’t a soul or sound in sight--just the rush of water on the windows and the silence that had been twice broken now--echoing inside of your head.

“Who’s there,” you said out loud, voice stumbling into existence and dying just as it left your lips.

But the darkness did not respond.

Tension pulled your shoulders further apart, as you strained to hear the voice again. It seized your curiosity, balling it up in your chest and rolling across your attention, “Where are you?” you asked.

_Where are you?_

“I asked you first.”

You were met again with silence.

_I'm hiding._

“Why are you hiding?” You lifted the blankets up, but again, there was only darkness.

_I'm scared._

Slowly, you lowered the blankets again. “You’re scared,” you echoed--barely stopping to wonder how this voice took up so much space in your consciousness, “Why are you scared?”

The voice trembled inside of your head, _You can use the Force?_

The Force. You shifted, like somewhere far away, a darkness began its rolling approach, “What’s that?”

_The Force. It's everywhere--it’s inside of us. It connects us--everyone and everything._

_“_ Is that what hurts me in my head sometimes?” You closed your fists in the blankets and hugged them under your chin, “The Force?”

_Yes._

Equal parts fearful and relieved, you came to terms with this knowledge. The buzzing in the back of your brain had a name, but that didn't make you feel any better about the pain it caused you. “Does it hurt you too?”

_...Yes._

“What’s your name?”

Silence was your response.

“My name is Vatari,” you said suddenly, finding relief in sharing your name with someone--even though it was just a whisper. “If you were wondering,”

There was no reply.

The rain was again brought to your attention, hauling the silence and contributing to its heaviness. “You don't have to be scared anymore,” you said. You reached out you hand to the darkness, “I’m here.”

The voice finally spoke again, softer. _I know. I can feel you._

He settled between your ears, you felt hands on your neck and ears; a boy clutching his head, brain throbbing in terrible pain. You put your hands over the sensation, over his trembling fingers and rounded ears _“_ I can feel you too.”

_Can you feel it too, then? The pain..?_

The end of his thought brought the ache. It gripped you in one fist and him in the other and thrust you against each other like plates crashing to the floor and humming like the roar of a star-fighter.

Power. Destiny. The Dark Side of the Force.

“Yes.” you said, feeling something pull you towards hypnosis--the chanting of those words. The Dark Side of the Force. “I feel it…”

_Don't go.._

You came to again, head on your pillow, eyes on the swirling veil of your canopy. His voice was still present, reaching for you, brushing against your eyes with his influence. “I'm here,” you said, mouth suddenly dry, “I’m here. I won't leave.”

_Ever?_

In your head, you saw forever and it was just out of your reach, beyond your veil of sight, but your promise was steadfast. You breathed, and he breathed with you, slow in solidarity, “Ever…”

Hands closed around the sides of your head and between your fingers, you felt phantom digits slide into place. Before you exhaled, you hummed a single note, low and soft in your voice box. You carried the note from you lungs to your chest, and into his, across the stars into his room. Between his fingers and into the rounded shells of his ears, slipping like ice into the swelling pain. Eyes closed, you hummed your dark lullaby, the one that you remembered that resonated in the halls of the Kellarov Palace; the one that left your mother's trembling lips for the last time at the very edge of her sanity. The tune you alone carried, a tune that when heard spread a warmth in you that lasted through the darkest of nights.

You sang softly to the presence in your head and it eased your minds together. It took the pain away and put you both to sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Etisin II.
> 
> Cold and dark.
> 
> You're stranded there; just the two of you.

A single raindrop hit your cheek and your body was roused to consciousness.

Above the trees, the sky was growing dark, navy colored clouds clumping together, shrouding the sights of the moon and all of her stars. Even the red speck of Kellarov Prime turned purple in the atmosphere and before disappearing from sight.

Your next breath entered your lungs in a jagged gasp, oxygen stumbling through your body in an attempt to bring your sore limbs to life. Aches twitched deep and sharp in your muscles, a cough expelling itself from your lungs and sending spasms through your aching spine.

You were alive.

Nearby, you felt his presence come to life, the itching in your brain, weak, but awake, breathing deeply from across the darkening clearing. A warmth of relief and the chill of hatred created a lightning storm in your chest, the currents fighting each other deep and hard inside of you. You flexed your core and through the pain, you moved a trembling inch before sinking back into the dirt, whimpering through an angry groan.

“If it hurts, Kellarov,” he grunted, “don’t do it.”   


You opened your heavy eyes, his silhouette laying stark beside you. You drew a deep breath and choked, chest burning as you heaved. “Be quiet, Ren,” you breathed, “I’m trying to think.”

He breathed, mask still seemingly locked onto his face. You thought again of his mouth and a shudder bolted through the gash in your back. “It is in your tendency to fail in thinking before committing dimwitted atrocities.”

“I said be quiet,” Your eyes opened to the sky again. Through the last of the light, you could see streaking in the sky. From behind you came rolling thunder, “Do you want to return to your precious flagship or not?”

“I might already have,” he grunted, “Had--”

“--had what, Ren?” you spat, “Had you listened to me? Had you trusted me?” Inside your chest, your heart began to throb, the coursing of the Force cauterizing the wound against the mud and burning your back to a near unbearable heat. You turned your head to face his presence, “I dare you to blame me for this.”

He shifted.

“You think I wanted to let you run rampant in my system?” A stabbing pain ripped up your back and you hissed, teeth clenched as you bit it back. Your wound ran warm with blood, “You think I wanted you in my life at all? You--menace, you idiot!”

In the dark, you saw his arm straight, bathed in moonlight. He was able to push himself up. “Tell me again, Kellarov,” he droned, “Whose idea it was to run into the jungle. And then repeat that word to me,”

This struck fear into you and you forced yourself to move to, You made it to your side, palm pressing hard into the mud as you made it to a painfully sitting position. With ragged breaths, you fought through the dizziness and put your hand on your waist. You were still armed.

Turning over your shoulder, you saw his mask glinting in the dark, armor ripped at his shoulder, baring unscarred flesh. “Idiot,” you snarled, low and dark from your swollen lip.

_ Hate him. _

Finally, he was on his feet, chest heaving in victory as the first to stand, biting through his injuries. Kylo Ren; the monster.

_ Hate him with your whole heart. _

You stood up and staggered, “This is your fault,” you snapped, gritting your teeth and spitting blood from your lip into the dirt. “Your pride, your monstrous ego, your entitlement all led us here and now, this is where we die. No food, no shelter, no communication--”  You snatched up your soggy holocom and threw it into the mud, stumbling against a nearby boulder, lmbs throbbing “I told you they would flank us and they did.”

“Your own impulsiveness drove us to this point,” He panted, “Had you gone to the shuttle like I instructed,” He took a step back, stumbling into the tree, pressing his gloved hand back to brace himself up, “we would be back on Starkiller by now.”

“We would have been killed!” your voice began to rise, “I told you once, running across that clearing would be the death of us. Both of us!”

“Stupid woman,” Ren snarled, his tattered cowl heaving with his shoulders, “I should have known better than to trust the worthless pawn of the First Order,”

“Pawn?” Thunder rumbling again in the distance, “I am my own legacy, a product of pride to the Kellarov family and the Supreme Leader. You’re foolish to think I serve you, I never have, I never will,”

“You never have,” he echoed and they sounded wrong. The itching of guilt ran your blood like ice and you clenched your fists. “Not once have you bent over backwards to appease me, to prove to your mother you were worthy,”

“Be quiet.”

“Not once, did you put yourself in my sight, have you stolen the Supreme Leader’s praise from me, to keep my eyes on your despicable face. Not. Once.”

“I said be quiet,”

“I made you,”

“Shut up,”

“I made you--to serve me, Kellarov!” He roared.

You fell silent. At the same time the sky opened to rainfall. The sound was like a planet-wide  hush, water falling against the leaves, splashing against the ground. It only took seconds to pick up, the rain drenching you both. The last of the moonlight was waning as the clouds continued to push across the sky to bring the dark.

He began to pace, circling you like a predator. You mirrored his movements like a rival loth-cat, shoulders heaving. “Everything you are,” he growled, “Everything you will become..it is because I allow it. You have never done a damn thing in your life without my hand pulling the strings—you think you have control over your life, you're wrong. Admit it. I made you.”

“No,” you whispered, “You're wrong.”

“Am I?” he continued you circle you and through the torrents of rain, you felt see him smirk  behind his mask. You felt it on your skin—you felt it mock you.

“Everything I did, I did for my family! My mother and my father--” you swallowed, “my unborn  brother slaughtered, I did it for them!” you cried. The rain hissed around you in your pause, locks of your hair plastering against your cheeks, “I trained—for ten years, Ren! Not for you, not for the Supreme Leader. For my family! Their dynasty!”

“Is that why you killed them?”

You scowled, “Their time was over. They never loved me anyway.”

“You murdered them,”

Heartache gripped you and you stopped walking. You murdered them. You sent Atria—gods,  where was Atria? “I did what I had to,” you hissed, “They had it coming!”

“You did it for me, didn’t you?” he began to pace again, and you began to move too, just to keep your distance, sharp pains shot up through your shin, “You did because I told you to. Because every choice you make in your pathetic life that has everything to do with me.”

“You--”

“You had them slaughtered, because I ignored you,” he interrupted, “I told you that as long as your parents breathe you are nothing to me, and you murdered them-- for me,” his voice trailed to silence, allowing him a chance to catch his heavy breath, “For my attention—you crave it, you wretched whore.”

“I don't crave you,” you whispered, “I never have.”

You lost eye contact with his mask, bending forward, letting the rain attempt to wash away the blood caked between your flesh and your flight suit.

“I rejected you,” he breathed.

His words knocked the wind from you. Eyes forward. You raised your head to him, scowling.

You managed the first part well, but the shock and shame that overcame you next was too heavy for words. Images suddenly returned to you, you were on Kellarov Prime, and you were so young. 

_ I have no use for her. _

“You remember, do you not?” Ren continued, 

“When your mother and father--”

“--shut up.” you whispered.

“--offered me your worthless hide--”

“--SHUT UP!”

Your screech echoed into the darkness, sky opening to even heavier rainfall. Tears and rainwater streaked your face, all mingling against your lips where blood was still pooling from your mouth,

“This is not about you--” you snapped.

“It is,” he replied, “It always has been.” He started to approach, his massive form moving like a shadow in the darkness, “You cannot deny this.” he reached up, running the back of his gloved hand on your bloody cheek, “What you feel for me is what you've felt for years,”

“Every bone in my body hates you” you spat, turning your head away from his hand.

“That would make you a terrible bride, wouldn't it?” Ren scowled, “To hate me like you do.”

“Oh, I hate you,” you breathed, voice trembling like it was struck by fear. “My blood boils in your  presence. Not a day goes by where I do not want to wrap my hands around your neck. I cannot  stand to look at that stupid mask you never leave home without—to think I thought I'd marry  you without seeing your wretched face!”

Without hesitation, he reached up under his mask and yanked it off in one swift motion, inhaling and holding it in his chest as you drew the sight in his face.

Kylo Ren was a man. His face was long, strong and sharp, two amber colored eyes, beholding you finally without the complexity of his mask. His nose was strong, and his mouth was stronger, two plump lips pressing together in a thin line. His hair was dark and soft, if not a little sweaty, now being wet down by the rain. He stared longingly at you, and you stared helplessly back.

He took another step forward, “Vatari,”

A single slap flew across his face, tossing his cheek and hair to one side. Your hand tingled as he stayed there, almost waiting for you to hit him again.

“You dare lay your hands on me--you dare utter my name!  You--”

He returned the favor, and just as quick. He sent his entire fist flying towards your face and you  took it on your good cheek, the force of impact sending you staggering backwards until you  landed in the mud several paces back. You wiped your lip with the back of your glove, pushing  yourself back to a sitting position. You shook your head, “You ugly son of a--”

You dove out of the way when he lunged at you again, tumbling with a cry feeling the throbbing  of your wounds. Your ankle was beginning to swell, the heat rising from your fracture giving you  much to whimper about. You stumbled when you got back to your feet, collapsing against a  nearby tree trunk. A familiar crackling drew your attention back around, and when you turned, Ren was staggering himself, the blood from his abdomen dripping into the mud. Sweat mingled  with the blood oozing from his forehead, his heavy brow catching it before it ran into his eyes. 

His light saber was ignited, its contact with the rain causing it to fizzle and spark.

You straightened yourself, retrieving your own saber from your belt. With a flick of your wrist, it  ignited—red as blood, a single blade hissing in the darkness. It illuminated your face in a dull  flickering, highlighting the contours of your rage as you tightened your fist around the hilt. You  took one step around and he mirrored you.

He lunged at you a second time, but this time, you were prepared. Holding your saber up, you  deflected his advance, countering his assault with full force. He pinned you hard, your blade over  your head, dipping down close to your face. His wet hair clinging flat to his cheeks, no matter  how hard the Force picked up around you.

You spit into his eyes and he recoiled with a roar. With your momentum, you lifted your leg, driving it into his wound. With his dirty sleeve, he sweared your blood and saliva from his eyes in time to collect your assault.

You leaped at him with a cry using the Force to propel you despite the pain in your foot, landing hard on his saber, but he pushed you back. You landed on your feet, sliding in the mud and you scowled, forcing your knees to stay bent. Your ankle gave out and you sank into the mud, your saber extinguishing in the puddle. When you raised your head, you watched him advance. 

He was limbering his wrist, twirling the hilt in his gloved hand casually. You shoved yourself to his feet and he rushed you yet again.

Twirling his saber, he advanced on you again, and each time you deflected him, back and back, the sounds of your sabers cracking and shrieking. In the flurry of strikes, the rain evaporated even before contact, and the pressure he exerted threatening what little balance you've achieved despite the searing pain between your back and your ankle.

“You'll never win,” he snarled deadlocking you again, “You will die here and in your impulsive  idiocy, you will have single-handedly run your family's dynasty into the ground,” He grinned  wickedly, “All through your obsession with me,”

“The only obsession I have with you, Ren,” you panted, “is making you beg for mercy,”

He threw you back and you stumbled back against the tree, the bark rubbing against the gash in  your back, causing you to cry out. With barely enough time to suffer through the screaming pain  of the tree digging into your back, you raised your light saber in defense.

Ren came down hard, shoving you back against the tree with his body, his saber threatening to cut you straight down the middle. The crossguard was pushed dangerously close to your shoulder and you gritted your teeth, struggling to push back. “The only one to beg for mercy will be you, Kellarov” he shouted, spittle flying from between his teeth. 

He twisted his hand suddenly and the plasma blade sank into your shoulder. It hissed as it pierced you, burning straight through your battle armor into your flesh.  You screamed and thrust your arms up, forcing him to let go of his weapon. Yours flew with his  and landed with a splash into the mud behind you, extinguishing them both at the same time.

Above you, the rain was only coming down harder, torrent after torrent of uncharacteristically icy  jungle rain. Through the downpour, you stood there panting, the rain pushing your eyelids shut,  forcing you to submit to each other. Lighting flashed overhead, showing you his handsome face  for a second, and when the light was gone, rolling thunder followed.

Hot magnets in your chest forced you closer, and before you could breathe in again, he grabbed  your face and smashed your lips together. He tasted like sweat and metal, cold and clammy as  he kept your lips as close as he could. This sudden passion tied a thick knot in your stomach, but when the butterflies took off, adrenaline shot through your chest to your arms. You shoved him back.

Ren staggered backwards, heaving, staring at you wildly. The look in his eye told you that you weren't going anywhere, and the heat in your gut didn't plan on running.

He rushed you a second time, this time, reaching around, gripping your hair in his fist. He tipped  your head back and descended onto your mouth, kissing you with fervor, and a growl that ended  in a groan. Driven still by the anger you harbored for him, you returned the favor, gripping his  dark hair in your gloves and pulling—hard.

His hands, monstrous and cruel passed over your chest, pushing your hard back into the tree, his mouth spelling desire on your lips. Before you could gasp, his tongue dipped down into your mouth, mixing your blood with his. You pulled your hands forward, cupping his cheeks in your gloves, clutching him in a fit of lust. The saliva that escaped from your lips, mixed with sweat and rain water as it washed down your face continually, forcing you to shed your thick skin, forcing you to open yourself to him.

He reached around you, digging his fingers deep into your gash. You sobbed into his mouth and he bit down hard on your lip, letting his teeth roll along your lip and catching your cut. He growled, pushing your head back into the tree trunk with his mouth, forcing your hips forward into his while he kissed you. Using your wound as leverage, he drilled his pelvis into yours,  pulling your battle armor towards your front, ripping the leather.

In retaliation, you shove your fist against the wound in his gut, rotating your knuckles into the  bloody gash. He roared, digging his fingers deeper into the laceration on your back, pulling you  even closer to him. You pushed him harder, and he pulled you back, “Insufferable wench,” he groaned through gritted teeth. He paused to kiss you ravenously on the mouth, “--You know better than anyone I can take whatever I want,”

You twisted your two fingers in his wound and he shouted, stumbling backwards and falling into  the mud. Following him down, you pinned him by the shoulders, straddling his hips and pushing  your hands into his hair. You forced him to look up at you, his hips bucking up into yours, “You  don't want me,” your whispers were eagerly swallowed by his lips, his gloves still ripping at your  armor, freeing your breasts to the rain. “You never did,”

With a grunt, he rolled you over onto your back, slamming your pulsing gash into the mud. You cried out, arching your back into him, a terrible arousal gripping you by your womanhood, the  Force screaming in your chest for him.

His hands pushed your legs apart and you gasped, feeling the knot in your gut pull itself tighter. He silenced you with his mouth, his hips dictating the undulation down into the mud and back up into a bulge that threatened your sex. Pain seared your back; you felt the stabbing pain of open nerves mingling with the coarse mud, burning your wound, causing you to writhe uncontrollably.

He held you still, despite this, the pain from his abdomen forcing him to angle his hips in such a way that didn't involve rolling them into you. But gods was he desperate. Every moan of yours  that wasn't immediately swallowed by his mouth was devoured by his bulging desire. His reaction translated directly to heavy grunts that sent wanton desire spiraling from your womanhood to your chest. You felt his sex through the heavy cloth; friction on your bare labia that sent disgustingly good vibrations up through your entire body.

“Be quiet, Kellarov.” he moaned to your neck, “your weakness for me is showing.”

You started to pant, and in between desperate thrusts, he unlatched himself, one hand reaching  into his trousers and the other tearing through your armor. “Shut up and fuck me,”

Penetration was swift and all at once. His cock, red and swollen pushed with ease past your virgin lips, his hips snapping the length inside of you completely. Ren howled in ecstasy, digging his gloved fingertips deep into your bare arms as he hung over you, hair dripping down onto your face. He grunted and growled like an animal, heaving over you, smearing your ass down into the mud while his cock defiled you. His other hand seized both of your wrists and pinning them above your head, pupils swallowing his iris in lust seeing you writhe. He slipped down, greedy for traction, driving you though the puddle to the edge of the thicket where he was able to scoop your knee up and brace you against a nearby tree.

The vines in the thicket were no solution to the excruciating pain that grieved you, but the pleasure Ren pumped violently back into you distracted you just long enough. He finally found his rhythm, hiccuping your moans against his hips, shamelessly using you to keep his cock hard. 

He slipped, the pain in his abdomen getting the better of him, his panting growing heavier, more frantic. And from behind you, the gash in your back spun your head like a cyclone. You struggled to keep your consciousness, forcing your eyes to stay open through thrust after thrust.

Not even the Force could keep you centered—in fact, the Force was encouraging you, swirling around like storm. It ran along your skin, wrapping around your thighs, sending hot throbbing pulses inside of your cunt along the curvature of his cock. It gripped his hips with fervor, keeping up his relentless pace.

He suddenly closed his fist around your neck; you choked, gagging around his glove. “Look at me when you cum,”,

His final howl sounded so far away and when he bit down on your neck, maybe you screamed,  but the pleasure was so immense, it took your mind closer to unconsciousness. He came in hard, cunt clenching thrusts that forced you to contract, his seed slopping in and out of you on the removal. 

The rain felt cold on your hot womanhood, washing away his semen, mixing with the mud under you. As your conscious drifted away, something held you back. An instant of heat. Your chest tightened, and when the pain subsided, the tightness remained. His name was on the  inside of your eyelids, burned Ecstasy softened your face and the resounding pleasure washed you far, far away; farther than his voice trying to call you back.

Eyes to the sky, through the canopy, the rain haloed your face, splashing against your forehead  and into your eyes that began to close; the sweet darkness coming over you, fading your world to black.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp!! The Final Chapter~ Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoy this last little bit~

You were finally home.

The red suns of Kellarov Prime shone brightly through the window and tickled your eyelids until you came to. Beginning to shift, you realized just how injured the airstrike had left you. Your entire body felt as if you were to your neck in mud; your bad arm was heavy, and your chest even heavier. If you couldn't feel the soft pillow behind your head, you would have never known you were in a bed— not until the pain in your ankle and back settled in. A chill that made its way through the room informed you that you were naked except for the bandages that pressed what little breasts you had to your chest to keep your back padded. Your ankle was elevated slightly, bound and cast, a warm blanket thrown over your lap.

You tilted your head slowly towards the tall window that flooded the room with soft pink light and let the sunlight warm your face. When you began to take deeper breaths, the pain came  back. It started in your chest and as you stirred—your unintentional groaning roused the other  figure in the room.

There was a gentle clattering that still sounded so far away; along with a voice that you thought  you would never hear again, but only the last few syllables “....ander..?”

You squinted your eyes, wincing, your voice barely breaking a whisper, “Atria..?”

“Commander..!” Atria stumbled to her feet the stool rolling across the floor as she jumped to your bedside. She stayed there for a moment, pushing your hair from your eyes before whirling around  “Hang on..hang on,” her presence left you and her voice echoed down the hallway, “She's awake--get me that medical droid now!”

When you finally opened your eyes enough to see, you felt a warmth like a beacon bloom from your chest. It pulsed and somewhere far off, fingers twitched. You took a deep breath, as deep as you could manage until your vision stopped shaking. You squeezed them shut before being able to open them fully again, the dull grey of the recovery chamber coming into focus.

Suddenly, hot panic struck you and you turned your head to the bedside table. On the desk,  glimmering just out of reach was the data drive. It was caked with mud, but safe. Atria came back, dragging a Medical droid by the arm behind her. 2-1B released itself from Atria's iron grip and dusted itself off, shuffling closer to your bedside. Atria folded her arms anxiously across her chest, leaning against the window beside the door. She looked thinner, dark hair pulled up into a  ponytail, bandages of her own under her black flight suit. She nibbled on her fingernail.

“Good afternoon, my lady,” chirped the droid with a bow, “So good to see you conscious,” It hobbled around to the edge of the bed to your limp arm. “Are you ready for your diagnostic?”

You nodded, but frowned “Just get it over with..”

“Diagnostic procedure activated,” it leaned forward, pressing its mechanical arm against your  elbow. You winced as a needle injected fast and hard into your bad arm. At the same time, it  constricted your good arm tight above your elbow. 2-1B whirred, beeped and removed the needle from your flesh, patching it immediately and releasing your other arm. “Blood pressure normal, oxygen levels normal,” it approached on the side beside Atria, shining a bright light into your eyes, “I see you're able to focus, good, that's good. You're well on your way to a full recovery, my lady,”

“Thank you...”

“Commander,” Anxiously, Atria pushed by 2-1B, settling herself back by your side, “What  happened to you..?” she lowered her voice as the medical droid took its leave, waddling out of the recovery chamber.

“Resistance airstrike,” you grumbled. You tried again to sit up and Atria braced you until you were comfortable. You settled back into the med bay bed with a groan, “Commander Ren and I had gone to to Etisin II..They had us surrounded..”

“Locke said he found you unconscious,” Atria whispered, “your armor was torn to shreds,” she swallowed hard, “Commander Ren was—”

A presence at the door stole her words from her mouth. Before she could turn, your eyes were already pinned to the doorway.

In the threshold stood Commander Kylo Ren. He was very still, as usual, dressed head to toe in his heavy dark robes. His heartbeat eased when he saw you, releasing his fingers from tight fists.

You heard the blood rush out of his fingertips, growing silent as it returned to his heart. It was a  sensation you weren't used to, but when you saw him, your pulse calmed too. Still, there was a  tension in the air, nearly tangible, hanging like a heavy haze between you.

Atria caught on shortly after, rising to her feet. She turned around and snapped to attention, “Commander Ren,” she stammered.

“Leave us.” 

You lowered your eyes.

Atria turned back around, leaning as close as she could to you, “Commander,” she urged. Even  she could feel Ren's aura of discomfort.

“It's alright, Atria. Go.” you said quietly, “I'll call for you.”

Atria hesitated, then nodded “Yes, commander,” she said quietly. She pulled her shoulders back saluted you. As she took her leave, she lingered on the form of the commander, her boots clicking off down the hall before she disappeared.

Again, the room was quiet. You found it difficult to look at him, the image of his pained face  hanging over you burned into your head. If you didn't know better, you'd tell yourself it was a  dream, but the pleasure was real; as real as the pain. You pulled a lock of your hair away from  your mouth, tucking it behind your ear back into your soft wavy bed of hair. You didn’t have to look up again to know he was still there. You curled your finger into your sweaty palm and he took a staggered step forward as if pulled from the center of his chest.

When you looked up, he was across the threshold, the door sliding closed behind him. 

You were alone.

“Kellarov,” he said softly.

The tightening in your ribcage released to what felt like a length that traversed the quiet room, disappearing into the chest of the stoic commander. It continued inside of him and when he swayed, you felt it pull you again. You were aware of him, all of him. The blood in your veins breathed. “..Ren.”

“Have you recovered from your injuries,” his question, phrased with a hard end made you feel far away from him, but the strand was still there, falling loose but present between you.

“Enough to speak,” you murmured.

He acknowledged you with a grunt and in a moment of unnatural perception, you felt the temper of his thoughts, the echoes of desire all in your own body. You shifted and in his wrist, you saw him shift the same; your hearts beating eerily as one.

Tearing your eyes away brought you a moment of peace as you lifted your good arm. With a twitch of your fingers, you extended your palm to the data drive. It wobbled and lifted from  the bedside table. As steadily as you could manage, you drifted it over to him. “Here,”

He opened his fist and the data drive clicked as it dropped against his palm, “What's this?”

“Coordinates,”

Ren held up the data drive between two fingers, turning it over, “Coordinates..” he echoed, “to where?”

You breathed deeply, “Your missing map piece..” He looked at you immediately and you held his gaze, locked on through the mask, “That's what you were looking for, wasn't it? What you tortured that pilot for?”

“Where did you find this?”

“There was one technician alive in the outpost,” you mumbled “She was trying to transfer  this information back to the Resistance. She killed herself, but” You gestured to the data drive, “I salvaged the file before she could destroy it.”

Again, he turned the data drive over in his palm.

“The man's name is Lor San Tekka,” you continued, “An ally of the Resistance hiding out in the Outer Rim on the desert planet of Jakku. The Resistance could be en route as we speak, but if you leave now,” you shifted uncomfortably, “you may be able to intercept them.”

Ren closed his hand tightly around the data drive, looking from his fist to your face before letting it rest at his side. “Understood,” he murmured. He looked at you and turned to leave.

His steps echoed in your head and from your chest, came the heavy pulling of the strand that seemed to fight his departure. His name fell from your lips before you could stop them.

“Kylo,”

He stopped immediately.

Still in time, your heart raced, the pulling in your chest growing tighter before settling again, present and taut between you. Your loose end began to wrap yourself up in it, hearts and lungs, tighter and tighter until you looked up, eyes wet. Kylo began to turn his shoulder.

“Do you remember--the night I sang you my mother’s lullaby?”

You were with him when he wondered, inside him and everywhere while his brain re-lived your storm. Your next breath shook you, “I think of that often.”.

Ren hesitated a moment, turning back towards the door’s threshold. With a steady breath, heart pulsing in his fist and in your chest the same, he remained otherwise still, kept in place. You felt his lips open from outside his mask.

“As do I.”

And with that, he was gone.

It was over.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued???

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Love you all so much~


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